Dear J, with love, L
by 00Verisimilitude00
Summary: When Dumbledore assigns all the seventh years pen-pals to promote interhouse unity, will Lily and James realize that they should take the written advice given to them and get together? And why is it that their written counterparts can empathize so well?
1. In which L is annoyed by J

**Disclaimer:** All the names your recognize belong to JK Rowling

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"Settle down class!" Professor McGonagall commanded, surveying us all from behind her desk.

I looked down at my watch, and then swivelled around to glance at the door for any sign of Alice. No such luck. I sighed. Turning back around to face the front, I briefly spotted the Marauders stumbling into class, laughing amongst themselves. Rolling my eyes this time, I pleaded silently to myself for Alice, Mary, Merlin, anyone to come sit in the empty seat next to me before...

"Ah, my favourite bird, Evans!"

Blast.

"Go away, Potter," I ordered without looking up.

"Come now, Evans, go out with me to Hogsmeade next weekend," he pleaded earnestly, "then I'll go and sit with Padfoot."

"Or," I said menacingly, wand in hand and look of hatred etched on my face, "I could make you get up–"

Damn. I regretted that as soon as it came out of my mouth.

"Oh!" Potter said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "You could make me? Eh?"

"Ew Potter, get yourself and your perverted thoughts away from me!" I leaned away from him, completely repulsed.

"Mr. Potter! Either return to your usual seat, or keep quiet and settle down," McGonagall's voice cut through Potter's response.

"Er, right, Professor," Potter said sheepishly, running a hand through his messy black hair. He sat up straighter and gave McGonagall a cheeky grin.

I rolled my eyes.

McGonagall gave Potter a sceptical look, but passed on to turn her attention to Black, who was busy magically folding paper aeroplanes and flying them around the back of the classroom to whack Remus repeatedly in the head.

"So Evans," Potter whispered while McGonagall was sternly telling off Black, "What about that date?"

"No date, not next weekend, not ever. Merlin, Potter, will you ever get that into your thick skull?" I whispered exasperatedly.

Okay, I admit, that was a little harsh.

Still, I didn't feel too badly, because Potter always seemed to bounce back twice as exuberant as before. Sure enough–

"Come on now Evans, I know you don't mean that," Potter said earnestly. "Just give me one date, that's all I ask." His eyes roved over my face for my reaction.

"No," I said with finality. Unfortunately from experience, I knew Potter couldn't pick up on little hints like the word 'no' or 'bugger off' or variations to that effect.

Thankfully, a great bang interrupted us at that moment. The doors suddenly flew open and Alice stumbled in. "Sorry Professor!" she said loudly. "I was in the Hospital Wing, just got out, you know..." she drifted off apologetically.

Of course. She had to make a scene. Drama and Alice just seemed to go hand in hand nowadays.

"Miss Greengrass, sit down this instant!" McGonagall barked.

Alice blushed, and looked around the classroom. Her gaze quickly flew to Potter, and then back to me. My eyes narrowed at the sly grin that was creeping up the sides of her mouth.

"Miss Greengrass?" McGonagall repeated, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Yeah? That grin? Gone now. Ha, take that Alice!

Alice quickly sat down in the vacant seat next to Black.

Not to be distracted, Potter opened his mouth to respond, but by this time McGonagall had finished her lecturing and so he was mercifully interrupted.

"Class, now that the various disruptions have ended," here she gave a sharp glare to the back of the classroom. Black gave a little wave in her direction which ended abruptly as Alice nudged him sharply in the ribs. McGonagall snorted delicately before continuing. "As deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house, it is my duty to announce to all the seventh years a new project to encourage interhouse unity."

McGonagall directly ignored the groans and mutterings that accompanied her announcement of more responsibilities and more time consuming activities.

Staring the class into silence once again, McGonagall continued, "That is why I, as well as the other heads of houses, have called special seventh year meetings. The headmaster thinks that, as the next wizarding generation to come of age and enter the wizarding world, you must not keep old prejudices especially with threats like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named out there to prey upon those who harbour intolerance for those around them. Therefore Professor Dumbledore thought that it would be best to establish a bond with those students of different houses. You will be participating an anonymous mail correspondent relationship with someone of another house assigned randomly to you by the headmaster. You must write at least forty-nine letters to your chosen partner-"

McGonagall stopped speaking when renewed complaints piped up from all around her. Seriously, McGonagall? It's not bad enough that we have to suffer through NEWTs but you're giving us this letter thing too? Ugh. It would be just my luck to be saddled with some muggle-hating pureblood fanatic; I mean, with all Gryffindors out of commission, I'd have a thirty percent chance of getting a Slytherin, won't I? I chanced a glance at Potter's face. He was staring at her, with a slightly quizzical look as he absorbed what he was saying. Weirdly enough, he seemed to be smiling slightly.

Whatever. I stopped trying to figure out what went on in Potter's mind two years ago.

"And each letter will be enchanted so that you must write an actual letter, and not just send an empty piece of parchment." McGonagall glared at us all, as if to dare us to suffer the repercussions of her wrath. "Now," she said in a business-like tone as she ducked behind her desk to receive slips of paper, "Here are your correspondents," she said as she went around the room handing out each slip to a specific person. "There is no due date for the first letter, but all your letters must have been sent by the end of term. Also, the headmaster requests that you perform a basic forging charm to disguise your handwriting. We will have a meeting of all the seventh years at the end of term to reveal your correspondents." Finished, she turned around and waved her wand. Suddenly all the notes transfigured themselves into live, hooting owls.

I stared at the small grey owl now perched on the edge of my desk. Hesitantly I reached out a finger to pat its head. Warily it looked up at me, keeping its eyes trained on my finger. Ah well. At least it didn't bite me.

I chuckled to myself as I heard Black yelling loudly in the back of the class, bemoaning the drops of blood that fell on his Gryffindor tie.

Looking around, I saw Potter already had his owl on his shoulder. It was hooting softly in his ear, and staring around. Eerily enough, it seemed to have developed a fixation on me, of all people. As I stared around the room for a couple of minutes, watching people interact with their owls, I caught Potter's staring at me several times.

I sighed. It seemed like Potter's owl had caught his Evans fascination. Bloody little feathery bugger.

"Now," McGonagall started once she had satisfied herself that every student had an identical bird sitting on their respective desks, "All your owls have been charmed to know your assigned correspondent. If I find that you have tried to counter this charm, either confound your owl or obiliviate it, the appropriate punishments will be given."

Merlin, McGonagall, what's with all the glares? It's like she expects us to try to mess up. I craned my neck around to glance at the Marauders in the back of the room and the unfortunate one sitting next to me. I suppose I wouldn't put it past them to bypass any extra rules just on principal either.

"That is all, you are dismissed," said McGonagall suddenly.

Thank Merlin! I quickly gathered my things, all the while ignoring Potter's unsuccessful stabs at conversation, and charged past other straggling Gryffindors to where Alice was flirting with Black.

"Alice!" I snapped my fingers in front of her face to get her attention.

Giving an annoyed huff, she turned to me. "Come on, Lily! Can't you see I'm busy here?" she narrowed her eyes, daring me to interrupt her again. She jerked her head at Black, who was smiling up at me, not unlike his mate, who by now had caught up to me and was sitting casually on top of Remus's desk.

Well. I have never backed down from a dare. Call it my innate Gryffindor bravery. Or stupidity, you know, depending on the situation. "Please Alice, we have to get to class. And I have to talk to you!"

She continued to gesture pointedly at Black. I saw that he had given up his silent and futile appeals to tell me to go away, and had engaged Potter in conversation. From what I could tell, it was over the gravely serious topic of canine hygiene. Boys are so weird.

"Ugh fine, Lily," Alice said, giving up.

I gave her a huge smile in return.

"I'll see you later, Sirius... James, Remus, Pete," she said, nodding at them in farewell.

"See you," Potter said in a friendly manner, clearly directing the goodbye at Alice, but staring fixedly at me.

"Let's go," I said, forcing a smile on my face, as I physically dragged Alice out of the transfiguration classroom by her elbow.

"Merlin, Lily," she said once we had cleared the classroom and were walking towards the owlery to drop off our newfound charges, "What's the big hurry?" she asked, rubbing the spot where I had grabbed her in my haste.

I gave her an appraising eye. "You left me all alone!" I accused hotly.

She looked at me with a bemused expression, petting her owl thoughtfully.

"With Potter?" I elaborated.

The flash of recognition on her face was quickly replaced with an expression of forced innocence. "Really?" she said calmly, continuing to stroke the owl's head, "I didn't..."

"Oh Alice, don't give me that," I said angrily. "Where were you?" I asked, searching her round face for any hint of her true intentions.

She responded to my question with a shrug, her deep brown eyes wide. "Like I said," she said defensively, "the hospital wing."

I gave her a disbelieving look.

"Really," she said loudly. "I tripped down the stairs on the way out of the Great Hall after breakfast."

I rolled my eyes. That was just so... Alice. Of course she would find a way for her extreme clumsiness to work to her advantage.

"So," she continued, "Longbottom nicely accompanied me to the Hospital Wing."

"Longbottom?" I frowned at the semi-unfamiliar name. I mean, going to a school with a class size of around fifty, it's inevitable that you've met everyone. It wasn't that I didn't know his name, just that I really didn't know anything about this mysterious fellow.

"Yeah, you know him, that bloke from Hufflepuff; that smart one who gets all those good marks in Herbology and Charms?" Alice searched my face for any sign of recognition. "Merlin Lily, you've spent six years worth of classes with the bloke," she broke off as I continued to stare at her blankly. "He claimed that he tripped me, and so insisted that he come with me to explain to Madam Pomfery, what happened."

Oh yeah. I remember him now; he sometimes went to the Slug Club parties. I had stopped going to those as of late. I personally wanted to keep some of my sanity. I swear, madness would soon be on the horizon if I was forced to listen to Slughorn's story about the Daily Prophet editor, the new chaser for the Holy Head Harpies and the Minister of Magic just one more time...

"Anyway," Alice continued, "He's kind of cute-"

"But what about Black?" I said, interrupting her. "You were flirting with him all through that special meeting. Right in front of McGonagall, no less," I said disapprovingly.

"I know," Alice sighed. "But that's nothing with Sirius." She gave me a winning smile. "Honestly, Lily, it's just a spot of fun. You may not know, but we witches usually enjoy interacting with wizards of high repute-"

I snorted. Black and 'high repute'? they really didn't belong in the same sentence. Or same paragraph, if you catch my drift. Let's just say that Black, for the past two years or so, has gone through women faster than Remus has with tissues during the flu season. I swear, that boy got sick every other week.

"and having, you know, fun?" She gave me a critical look. "You may not know what it is, Miss Evans, having never had such leisure time to experience the phenomenon commonly referred to as 'fun.' It's quite enjoyable, really, you should try it sometime." Alice finished her pseudo-lecture with a bracing pat on my back.

Seriously? "I have fun!" I protested.

Now it was Alice's turn to snort loudly. "No, Lily, studying does not count as 'having fun' by anyone's standards." She gave a shudder.

"That's not what I meant," I started. "I do lots of fun things..."

Alice smirked. "Yeah? Like what?" Her smile grew more pronounced as I floundered for examples to give her.

Merlin, I don't work well under pressure.

Well. Except when pressured to accept one of Potter's preposterous proposals; then biting comebacks just seemed to roll off my tongue. I mean, it's only Potter.

"Ah!" Alice burst out triumphantly. "See?" She poked me. "No fun."

"Then why are you my friend, if I'm so lacking in the fun department?" I grumbled as we marched up the owlery stairs.

Alice paused, debating her answer. "Because I took pity on you," she said condescendingly, patting me on the back consolingly.

I harrumphed. "More like I was the only non-slag in our dormitory and you could barely do a levitating charm by second year. And I, as the ultimate charms master, was the only person who could help you." I looked at her scowling face, my own smile getting bigger as she started to mutter ominously under her breath.

"Please," Alice said irritably, "Plenty of other people could help me. You were just too damn bossy and I didn't have the heart to tell you."

I pretended to be highly affronted. Eyes wide and hands thrown up in the air in a gesture of shock I spluttered, "Bossy? Me?" I made sounds of incredulity which were quickly drowned by Alice's laughter.

"Come on Lily, you know I love you and all, but sometimes you can be, er, slightly overbearing."

"Overbearing, my arse," I said flippantly as we reached the open door to the owlery.

Alice simply continued to laugh.

"Should we write a letter now?" I asked her, turning to look questioningly at my new owl. "To get one over with?"

Alice shook her head. "Naw, no time, I don't think." She held up her wrist to check her watch in the afternoon sun pouring in from the large windows of the owlery. "Only five minutes until class. Tell you what, how about we write one of these blasted things after dinner?"

"Sure," I agreed. My anticipation was not nearly enough to dominate my fear of getting to class late.

Damn what do I have next? I opened my rucksack to check my timetable.

"Transfiguration," I groaned.

"We just came from there," Alice complained despondently. "Better get going then." She stomped slowly toward the door.

I followed her. "You excited about his new letter thing we have to do?" I asked her as we walked down the stairs.

"Hell no," she said shortly. "My timetable's busy enough as it is. I have no time to write to some anonymous stranger, as romantic as that sounds."

"I don't know, you could get someone you could really connect with, you know?"

"I guess," came her dubious answer. "Knowing my luck, I'll probably get one of my pureblood crazy relatives. You know my mum, 'the Greengrasses have been around and pure of blood since the Teutonic knights; Alice you're a disgrace to our noble green and silver lineage!'" She gave a harsh laugh as she imitated her mother, who I have never met, with a strident high pitched voice. "What a load of rubbish." She shook her head.

"Mental," I agreed. Truthfully I was scared of getting a similar person. I mean, Hogwarts can proclaim their tolerance all they want, but the matter still stands that, despite what both of us joked about otherwise, I met Alice and become friends with her when she punched some Slytherin git in the mouth after he had set my shoes on fire. 'To match your mudblood hair' he had said before flames engulfed my feet.

Bringing myself back to the present, I belatedly heard Alice greet newcomers at the base of the owlery stairs. Quickly I jogged down to where I heard Alice's voice floating back to me.

Suddenly I wished that I could backtrack without looking like a complete idiot.

"Evans!" Ugh that boy made me hate my surname.

"Potter," I said curtly as I looked at all the Marauders gathered at the base of the stairs.

Potter opened his mouth to say something, probably one of his ridiculous date offers again, but thankfully Remus nudged him hard in the ribs, shutting him up before he could utter one more syllable.

"We're going back to class," Alice was saying to Black. "You?" she asked.

"Us too," Black confirmed, clapping a glaring Potter on the back. "After the owlery, of course," he added.

"Well, see you there," Alice said cheerfully, taking my arm and steering me away from the group of troublemakers.

We walked in silence for a few seconds until the boys were out of earshot. Suddenly I exclaimed, "I can't stand them!"

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Please, don't go on one of your 'I detest James Potter' rants again. I've heard it all before. Multiple times," she grimaced.

"Fine. I won't repeat myself, but-" I started

"'But,'" Alice muttered. "There's always a 'but.'" She sighed. "Look Lily I know you say that you hate-"

"What do you mean 'say' Alice?" I asked, completely baffled as to what she was getting at. "Of course I hate Potter. You would too if he asked you out every single bloody Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and sometimes Sunday since fourth year."

Alice laughed. "Seriously? He's that regular?"

I gave a sharp nod.

"Anyway," she continued, "that's not the point I was trying to get at. What I mean to say is that I think you should give James a shot."

I gaped at her wordlessly.

"Don't look at me like that," Alice said huffily. "I only think that, if he's this persistent, he must really fancy you. Surely you can give the bloke a break? He's been waiting for what, three years?" She crossed her arms over her chest with some sort of finality.

Um no, Allie. That's not how it works.

"As if," I said shortly. "Potter's had other dates in the past."

Alice shrugged. "None of them mattered that much. It was mostly to add to his rep as a good snogger anyway. Why won't you say yes?" Alice asked, changing the subject.

I rolled my eyes. "Because he's an egotistical, arrogant prat who needs to have his enormous head deflated because it takes up too much oxygen in the room."

Alice threw me an exasperated look. "No, he's not."

I looked at her incredulously.

She tossed her hands up in the air in a gesture of annoyance. "He's changed," she explained.

I narrowed my eyes and threw her a sceptical look.

"Don't look at me like that," Alice said, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder as we entered the transfiguration classroom. "It's just that, well, when was the last time you saw James hexing someone for the hell of it? Or bossing around younger students like he did last year?"

Well. I guess those were legitimate points. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen Potter do any of those things in a while.

"Still," I said aloud, "he's still an obnoxious git who needs to stop asking me out every other day."

"But Lily, I thought he only did it Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays?" Alice asked mischievously.

"Don't be a smartarse. It's not becoming," I told her primly.

She laughed and took the seat next to me in the front of the classroom that had previously been occupied by Potter.

"But seriously Lily," Alice started, but was cut off by McGonagall.

"Settle down class!" McGonagall's gaze swept over the students, lingering on the Marauder infested corner. And so the Transfiguration class commenced, continued, and ended. Mostly without incident, thank Merlin.

"As I was saying," Alice continued, as if there had been no interruption, "I mean, he's Head Boy now, right? Dumbledore must have noticed that James has changed."

I gave her a look that clearly said, 'So?'

"All I'm saying is that you should at least try to see that he's different. Merlin's beard, I'm not asking you to proclaim you're love to the bloke."

"Yeah, because he's already done that. Twice!" I laughed hollowly.

"Oh yeah," Alice said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Clearly she was remembering that incident in the Great Hall in fifth year, and again in the beginning of sixth.

The first time everyone had been pleasantly amused to come into the Great Hall for dinner and find a giant scarlet and gold banner proclaiming, 'L. Evans loves J. Potter' in enormous red letters right above the teacher's table. Unfortunately, after everyone had gotten over their initial shock of the thing and had finished snickering, Potter had the not-so-smashing idea to cast a sonorous charm and shout, "How about it Evans? Come with me next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Publicly humiliated and probably with a face as red as a tomato, I had spat out, "Never in a million years would I ever even consider going out with the likes of you James Potter!" Then, classy as always, I had walked up to him and poured a whole pitcher of pumpkin juice on his stupid hair. Amidst the spluttering noises coming from Potter and howling laughter coming from the other Marauders, I had stalked out of the Great Hall.

The second time was worse. Naturally, just because Potter had gained a year in age did not mean in any way that he had gained any wisdom to match. In fact, I'm almost confident that he had become downright stupider during that time. He had been always one to go against the seemingly universal rules anyway. This time the Great Hall had been spared from any defiling hangings, but sadly the same could not be said for the rest of the castle. The day everyone came back from winter holidays they had found that the Marauders had run around the halls, scrawling 'JP + LE,' 'Evans and Potter' and even the occasional, 'Lily + Prongs 4 ever' on the staircases, walls, chairs, and there was even a rumour that a 'Lily loves James' had been inscribed on the Headmaster's desk. Later that day during dinner, Potter had asked me out again, yelling across the hall to the other end of the Gryffindor table where I was sitting, "Hey Evans! You, me, Hogsmeade next weekend?" with what he had supposed to be a charming smile.

To which I ha replied smiling just as brightly, "You, your ego, long walk, short pier, I'll see you when your body resurfaces from the lake, yeah?" and then stormed out, mortified, to the sound of gales of laughter in my wake.

"Yes, well..." Alice coughed delicately, most assuredly hiding a small chuckle, "He hasn't done anything that outrageous yet, has he?"

"No. But that doesn't mean it's not coming," I muttered darkly. "I wouldn't put anything past their lot." I jerked my head toward the back of the classroom where I could hear Remus giving a quiet lecture to the rest of his friends. It seemed to be on the proper etiquette acceptable in classrooms.

Ha! Good luck with that one Remus, old pal. Not that it hasn't sunk in during the past fifty times you've given that speech, or anything.

"Whatever. The marauders are their own business. I just thank my lucky stars that Potter hasn't been a completely incompetent Head Boy," I said as I got up from my seat to leave.

"Aha! So you do acknowledge that he's matured!" Alice exclaimed, jumping up and following me out the door.

Humph. "That's inconsequential when talking about my love life."

"No, it's not Lily!" Alice said earnestly, looking directly into my eyes. "Didn't you tell him that you'd accept one date when he grew up?"

"I did," I said. As Alice prepared to do some sort of victory dance right in the middle of the corridor, I continued on quickly, "But, you seem to have forgotten the second part of my deal with Potter."

Alice gave me a bemused look.

"He has to deflate that overly large head of his before I consider willingly spending more than five minutes in his company," I said smartly, turning up the stairs to head to Gryffindor tower.

"Fine," Alice said grumpily. "I'll give you that."

"What's with the Potter inquisition?" I asked her appraisingly.

Alice scratched the back of her head. "Er, during all your head duties, I've been bored!" She paused, "And, um, there's no one else to hang out with, so I've been spending most of my free time with Sirius, Remus and Pete."

I rolled my eyes. "No one else?"

"No one," Alice repeated determinedly. "And, although I know you're at loath to admit it, but they're quite funny to listen to."

I didn't respond. Sure, the Marauders were funny, no one in their right mind could argue against that. But it was that they just broke so many school rules...as Head Girl I couldn't let them get away with all of that, could I?

Right?

"Let's go to dinner." Alice's voice broke though my thoughts.

"Sure." I sighed. It was going to be a long year.

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**A/N: Next chapter is from James's POV**


	2. In which J speaks decently to L

**Disclaimer: **

**JK Rowling invented Harry Potter and she is pretty fine,**

**I'd be over the moon if he was really mine,**

**Right now I'm just borrowing her characters for a bit,**

**And I'll return them back to her once I'm done with all this... stuff**

* * *

"Really, Prongs," Remus began slowly as we left the transfiguration classroom, trailing behind Evans and Greengrass, "I thought we went over this!" He sighed exasperatedly.

"I know!" I said, frustrated. "It's just that I kind of forget things when I'm around her."

"Still," Remus said slowly. "We spent the _entire summer _drilling in the necessity of being a decent human being when around Lily; and for the past two weeks you've been ignoring it all!" He threw his hands in the air in a gesture of frustration.

"Give it a rest Moony," Sirius said calmly, "It's not like it's unusual for Prongs here to go completely gaga over Evans."

I gaped at him. "I do not go 'gaga,'" I started angrily, but was cut off by Sirius.

"Oh hell you don't, why only last week I caught you doodling her initials in your notebook," Sirius pointed out smugly. "You know," he said suddenly, clutching Remus's shoulder, "I miss the old Prongs, you know Moony," he paused for dramatic effect, "the one that didn't act like a thirteen year old _girl._"

I whacked him over the head with my handy, and heavy, transfiguration textbook for that.

"Merlin, Prongs, could you hit any harder?" Sirius said grumpily, rubbing the side of his head.

"Why sure I can, Padfoot, old friend," I said jovially, raising the textbook again.

"What? No!" Sirius shouted, eyeing the offending book again. "Bloody wanker," he swore under his breath.

"Sorry? Didn't hear that," I said loudly, glaring at Sirius.

"I think he said, 'Investment banker'" Pete piped up hopefully.

I shot him an incredulous look, as did Sirius. Of course we knew perfectly well what Padfoot had said.

"I see what you mean, Wormtail," Remus said, a smile pulling at the sides of his mouth as he gave a thankful look to Peter. "Prongs, you'd make a bloody brilliant banker, well spotted Padfoot," he continued on in his blatant attempt to stop the violence. He clapped Sirius on the back in a congratulatory manner.

Who couldn't laugh at Wormtail and Moony's ridiculous antics?

Still chuckling, we all entered the Great Hall for dinner.

"Merlin, I'm starved," said Sirius as we sat down at our usual seats at the end of the table.

"Aren't you always?" Remus drawled as he piled mashed potatoes on his plate.

Sirius shrugged, allowing that. Or, probably he just couldn't physically muster up the energy to swallow the enormous amount of food he had just shoved in his mouth, rendering speech impossible until he had swallowed the vast amount.

We ate in silence for a bit, interrupted every once in a while by someone demanding "Oi, pass the carrots," "Where are those chicken legs," or, more often than not: "Moony, stop hogging the chocolate to yourself, why don't you share?" ... stuff to that effect.

Once we had all eaten a generous amount of food and were mostly picking at the remnants left on our plats, conversation began again.

"So, when do you want to write those letters McGonagall assigned?" Remus asked, typically responsible.

"Never," Sirius responded immediately.

"Come on Padfoot," I said bracingly. "McGonagall would be in a right state if she found out that you disrespected the headmaster again."

"Naw," Sirius denied offhandedly, "I mean, Dumbledore himself didn't seem too put out when I charmed his robes and his wand. Thought it was right hilarious, actually," Sirius finished thoughtfully.

Two days ago, two weeks into school when Gryffindor had reached the fifty point mark in the House Cup, the Marauders had decided the only reasonable thing to do was to celebrate. As Moony had been recovering from the full moon the night before and Peter and I had been stuck in our first detention of the year, the duty had fallen to Sirius to perform the actual prank. Naturally it had gone swimmingly, and when Dumbledore had addressed the students that morning during breakfast the whole school started snickering at his distinct scarlet and gold colour scheme. Later when he had attempted to perform a warming charm on his tea halfway though breakfast, the whole school jumped when a deafening roar, obviously reminiscent of a lion, filled the Great Hall. Everyone then had started to laugh, Dumbledore included. Immediately afterward, Sirius had leapt up from his seat and started bowing, proclaiming all the glories of Gryffindor house to the rest of the school. Needless to say, McGonagall had put him in detention for two weeks.

Unfortunately that afternoon I had to suffer the terrible wrath of Evans. Not that I didn't love her or like to spend time with her, I'd just have preferred it if she hadn't been yelling herself hoarse or insulting me every other breath.

Merlin, that hadn't happened in a long time.

"Potter!" I had heard a very familiar screech across the Gryffindor common room.

"Yes, Evans, dear?" I had said, turning around. Out of the corner of my eye I had caught Remus roll his eyes in hopelessness.

Her face had reddened in anger. "Oh no, Potter, don't you 'dear' me!"

"Why not, dear?" I had said tauntingly. Why did I get myself into these situations?

"Shut it, you bloody git!" She had marched right up to my chair and had glowered down at me. "What in Merlin's name possessed you to pull that stunt in breakfast?" Evans had demanded, green eyes blazing.

"In celebration, of course!" I had said happily, getting up to face her properly.

"Celebration," she had repeated dubiously.

"Yes, a celebration," I had said patiently. "You know, you should hone your listening skills. Sirius explained the whole thing to the Great Hall afterward."

"Oh he did, did he?" Evans had hissed in a dangerously low voice. "Somehow I missed that. I think it was because I was too busy watching McGonagall haul his arse off to detention! Something which you all deserved!"

"Before that, obviously," I had said casually, looking down at her gorgeously red face. It had helped that she was about four inches shorter than me. Had made it all the easier to show my superiority.

Evans had crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Bad listening skills, my arse," she had muttered.

Needless to say I had tried to not think of her perfectly shaped arse. Which, I couldn't help but notice, was only about half a metre away from me. My concentration had been bad enough as was without the tempting prospect of Evans's bum to confuse it.

"You're Head Boy, Potter! For Merlin's sake act like it!" she had yelled. Well. That had brought me sharply back to Earth after a delightful daydream that had involved Evans' arse and Moony's chocolate syrup.

Of course she would play the 'Head Boy' card. "It was a harmless prank, Evans!" I had said, easily just as loud as her. "To open up the new year!"

Her mouth had pursed in anger. "So this is what it's going to be like for the rest of the year?" she had asked in a deadly quiet voice.

I had backtracked immediately. "No, of course not, Evans," I had said hurriedly, gauging her reaction carefully.

"Really?" she had said dubiously, placing a hand on her hip.

I had nodded.

"And you and your prattish Marauder friends couldn't celebrate the normal way?" she had demanded, poking me hard in the chest.

Normal? Normal was dull. Normal was boring. Normal was not the Marauders. Not... us. "Since when have we ever done anything in the normal way?" I had scoffed.

"Well, you can start now!" Evans had blustered.

"You know what is normal, Evans," I had started.

She had looked at me curiously, eyes still angry. The suspicion had practically wafted off her in waves.

"When a bloke asks a girl to Hogsmeade, particularly a handsome, quidditch playing bloke, the girl usually says 'yes.' So how about it Evans, since you're such a fan of normality?" I had ruffled my hair, as she had continued to glare, and smiled at her.

I had not missed Remus slapping a hand to his forehead at my foolishness. Even Peter had shaken his head sadly at the stinging rejection I was sure to receive.

Evans had been stunned for a minute. Quickly, and twice as loud as before, she had snarled, "I'd hoped the summer had rid you of the ridiculous notion that I would ever go out with you. Merlin, I can't wait until this year is over and I'll never have to see your fat head again!" with that she had flounced up to the girls dormitories.

"Well," Sirius had walked up to me and had clapped a hand on my shoulder, "mate, did you expect that to go any better?"

"Not really," I had said, and sighed. "I just wanted to make her forget to take house points. You know, and keep those fifty that we were celebrating earlier." Somehow it hadn't seemed quite as good idea as it had before.

Sirius had grinned. "I suppose so, Prongs."

A biscuit suddenly got shoved into my open mouth, and I was brought forcefully back into the present. "Earth to Prongs?" I heard Sirius's voice chanting. "Earth to Prongs?"

"Eh?" I said stupidly, biscuit crumbs falling from my half full mouth.

"He was off in Evans' land," Pete said matter-of-factly.

Oh right. Great hall. Dinner. Two weeks later.

"I resent that!" I said loudly, as the biscuit fell onto my plate. "'Evans' land?'" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure," Pete continued, "You've been spacing out for about ten minutes.

"Oh," I said dazedly.

Sirius gave a moan of exasperation. "Did you not hear a single word I said?" He looked at me imploringly.

"Er, no?" I said slowly.

"Of course not," Sirius muttered to himself, letting out a puff of air in annoyance. "As I was saying," he continued on, obviously still irritated, "We should do another prank, and soon."

Peter nodded in agreement, Remus, however, grimaced.

"Schoolwide?" Peter asked, looking from Sirius to me and back again.

"Exactly," Sirius said confidently, "That thing with the headmaster was good and all, but we need to announce to the whole school that we're back from the summer. Plus it's our last year and all, we should make it memorable." He banged his fist on the table for emphasis. "Before we go out into the world and make ourselves 'respectable' or some similar codswallop." Sirius gave a shudder at the thought.

Remus was about to open his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "I dunno Padfoot." I paused as Sirius's eyes widened in surprise and Remus shot me a calculating glance. "I mean," I continued on hurriedly, "you're still in detention and will be for the next week and a half, and Moony's still not fully up to speed 'cause of his furry little problem two days ago..." I drifted off.

Remus gave me a grateful look, and Sirius looked slightly put out, but I guess he must have seen my logic in the end, and so didn't complain too much. Pete simply shrugged; I don't think he really would want to pull off that big a prank on his own.

"Plus," Remus interjected, "James, you're Head Boy." After Sirius shot him a murderous glare for mentioning that dreaded position, he continued, "I don't mean to say that you shouldn't ever pull pranks or break school rules – I'm very thankful that you have – but you have a responsibility to the entire-"

At this point Sirius pretended to fall asleep on the table.

"-student body," Remus continued, frowning at Sirius's still form, "and it would definitely not raise your esteem in the eyes of our dear Head Girl. So, therefore I think that you should-"

At this point Pete began to poke Sirius. Repeatedly.

"-refrain from too much of your usual antics. Really, Prongs, I think that's what might peak Lily's interest in you-"

At this point I sat straight up. Before, I had been very tempted to join Sirius on the dinner table. Hell, I'd have dragged Pete down with me if it had meant getting Remus out of his 'Professor' mode and shutting up until a later date. Not that I didn't listen to the bloke... well, I didn't, not usually. Anyway, I'd pay attention just if he broke it up with some joke here or there (contrary to popular belief Remus could be quiet funny, just very, very, dry) but if he was too serious, he would forget that it's important to have an attentive audience to whatever he as saying; rather he'd listen to the sound of his own voice for about two minutes before marching off in a huff after we refused to wake up. After seven years, I think he did it more out of habit than actual annoyance. He didn't used to be so dramatic; Sirius maintained that he finally rubbed off on him, usually wiping away a fake tear of pride. Remus simply rolls his eyes and denies the whole thing.

"-in the end," he continued, smiling slightly at my renewed interest in what he was saying, "Because she told me that her main concern is that you shirk your responsibilities as Head Boy, thereby adding to her workload." He paused. "Well, James, I don't actually know about that. Certainly it's a main part of why she won't give you the time of day, but also we have to work on teaching you some humility. I mean, while watching you interact with-"

At this point several things happened at once.

"ARGH WORMTAIL, GET YOUR BLOODY FINGER AWAY FROM ME THIS INSTANT!" Sirius had evidently given up feigning sleep and was glaring murderously at Peter.

"POTTER, I NEED TO SPEAK WITH YOU!" came shrieking from the oh-so-melodious voice of Evans from the entrance of the Great Hall.

"LUPIN! A WORD!" McGonagall too?

Peter squeaked and jumped away from the very volatile looking Sirius, and scooted further down the bench. Once a safe distance away, he began sniggering quietly to himself, evidently amused at the red dots that now covered the back of Sirius' robes. Of course it was not enough to simply poke dear old Padfoot to death, but he had to dip his fingers in the innocent ketchup container after every jab.

I jerked around to stare at Evans as she marched up to where we were sitting. "I haven't done anything," I said instantly.

Remus sniggered at my obviously guilty tone, but broke off from his helpful, albeit very repetitive, lecture to go meet our transfiguration professor who had just gotten up from her seat at the teacher's table.

"I know that Potter," Evans said exasperatedly. Her expression turned sour suddenly, and she glowered down at me. "Or is there something that you have done that I need to know about?" She put her hands on her hips in an expectant manner. Her eyes narrowed.

Merlin, her sparkling green eyes are gorgeous in this light.

I told her so. "Shut it, Potter, don't change the subject," was all I got in response. I shrugged. Not my fault if she didn't accept my compliments.

"What was it that you wanted to ask me about, Evans? Heads business?" I asked, looking at her face intently.

"Yes, actually," Evans said, warily eyeing Sirius load mustard covered peas onto a spoon to launch, catapult style, at Peter who was attempting to hide behind me.

"Yes?" I gently prodded her to continue her sentence, smiling slightly as she watched Sirius trying to sneak around my back to reach Pete with a small amount of well disguised amusement.

Evans blinked and withdrew her gaze from her Gryffindor peers. "Just that we need to plan a Heads meeting. That prefect time table for rounds that we made on the train is not working."

"Oh. When do you want to do it, then?" I asked her.

"How about tomorrow? I have a free period after dinner. I think you do too." Evans bit her lip, looking nervous.

I paused before answering, a little bit shocked. "You know my timetable, Evans?" I stared up at her incredulously.

"Well," she said slowly, evidently pondering her answer. Knowing her, the careful phrasing was to make sure I could not make any sexual innuendo or slide in a Hogsmeade invitation somewhere. Huzzah! I couldn't wait to tell Moony that I had actually remembered his advice, which was to not under any circumstances utter anything that might resemble those two forbidden topics of conversation. Wait. Where was that dastardly clever werewolf anyway? Argh! Curse you Professor McGonagall for stealing my dear Marauder friend away from me at this key moment in the history of the growing love between Prongs and Evans!

"Yes I do," she admitted in a small voice. She then continued on in a much more confident manner, "It's not because I like you or anything. Let me make that point _very _clear, Potter," she glared at me before carrying on, "But we're taking all the same classes. So unless you have a heavier workload than I do – which is incredibly unlikely – we also have the same free periods."

"Okay," I said slowly.

"Okay?" Evans said, evidently surprised. "That's it?"

"Well, yeah," I said, slightly offended. "What did you expect me to do?" I looked at her curiously. "Say that I have important Marauder business to attend to which involves bananas, rubber bands and the unused classroom on the fifth floor instead?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah," she said, echoing my earlier sentiment.

I stared at her. "That's not the case," I said obviously.

"Right, Potter, I'll see you-" she paused. "Wait. What's this about bananas and a classroom?" She went right back to glaring at me.

"Never you mind, Evans," I said causally, turning back to attend to that unfinished biscuit that was shoved unceremoniously into my open mouth twenty minutes ago.

"I'm serious Potter," Evans stated. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you and the rest of your lot have planned." She put a hand on my shoulder, and I was able to acknowledge the pleasure of an actual physical connection to Evans. Not that she had never touched me before, she has. It's just never been longer than the average slap or, er, that one time she punched me back in third year. Her green eyes bore into mine as she stood there in anticipation of my answer.

"Nothing," I said slowly.

"Nothing?" she said, her eyes large and tone coloured with disbelief.

"Yes, nothing," I said even more slowly. "Like, that experience that happens whenever Wormtail tries to remember his divination homework."

"Hey!" the aforementioned Marauder exclaimed loudly in protest, staring at me.

Quick as a flash, while Peter was distracted, Sirius yelled, "RETALIATORY MEASURES MUST BE TAKEN, WORMTAIL!" and finally let loose those gold and green projectiles that had been waiting on his spoon.

Suddenly, something entirely unexpected happened. I blinked, to make sure that I was seeing things properly...

Nope. Still there.

Evans was smiling! At something the Marauders did! I refrained myself with difficulty from giving a whoop of joy. Still, her smile was infectious – it's one of the main things I fancy about her – and soon I was grinning right alongside her.

"Seventeen-year-old boys," Evans muttered, "the epitome of maturity, right there," she said, indicating Peter, who was trying in a futile effort to get the peas off the back of his robes, and Sirius, who was busy doing a demented sort of victory dance. Drops of ketchup splattered on the floor with each step he took like rain.

Merlin, did Evans just make a joke? She did! Gah! Never had three such momentous occasions happened in the space of one hour! Merlin's beard, where the hell was Moony? He was the only person among us four who actually pays attention in that dead excuse for a teacher's class. He's the only one, apart from myself (and that's just because I fancied the pants off Evans), who could appreciate such a rare occurrence. Er, not because he fancied the pants off Binns or Evans. Binns? Merlin, that's a disturbing concept, I mean, he's a bloody ghost.

Not that it was exceptional for Evans to make a joke. I hear that she did, quite frequently. However, never had Evans once made a joke in front of _me_. Instead she occupied herself with swearing, yelling and being a general a pain in the arse, a gorgeous, magnificent pain in my arse, but a pain in the arse nonetheless.

I laughed. Evans, startled by the sound, muttered, "Well then Potter, if we're finished, then I'm off." She turned to go.

"Uh, sure Evans," I said to her back after she had turned.

A minute after Evans left Sirius was still doing what by now looked like a one person tango. This is when I fully recognized the value of the statement 'it takes two to tango.' He looked bloody ridiculous. Peter finally gave up and took his robes off to personally pick off every single pea that had glued itself to his unfortunate back with a morose expression on his round face. And finally Remus made his appearance, not looking too torn out from his interrogation by McGonagall.

"Moony!" I exclaimed joyfully. "Where were you, mate?"

"McGonagall," he replied, looking at my ecstatic face with a dubious expression. "Wanted to check with me about my healing potions."

"Why?" I asked, my question mirrored on Sirius's face. He had finally stopped his sorry excuse for a dance when Remus joined our company once more.

"Nothing big," Remus assured us. "Just curious," he lowered his voice, "as she has been for the past two years," his voice regained its usual volume, "about why my, er," he grinned, "the 'furry little problem,'" he said, with a nod to me, "hasn't been as bad. She just wanted to make sure all the healing potions were enough and that I wasn't getting too loopy."

"'Loony, loopy Lupin?" Sirius snorted in laughter.

"I can't believe you've resorted to quoting Peeves." I shook my head in shame.

"What?" Sirius shot me a fake offended look. "It's a nice example of alliteration and assonance."

We gaped at him for a second before Remus finally voiced all our thoughts. He choked out, "Do you even know what those words mean?" staring at Sirius with wide eyes.

We all burst out laughing. Except Sirius, that is, he kept his offended expression firmly in place, although I doubted that it was faked this time around.

He waited impatiently for our chuckles to subside, before telling us huffily, "It was in the Sunday crossword the other week."

Well. That explains it.

"Took me forever," he complained as we all got up to leave the Great Hall. "I had to get all the other clues before I figured out what those two were."

"Leaving Padfoot's newfound English skills to rest, why don't we write those letters? Get one over with?" Remus ventured as we walked up the great marble staircase.

There was a general murmur of assent, and so it was settled that we would go and write the damned things in the comfort of our own dormitory and then send them off to be received the next day at breakfast.

"Well hello dears," the Fat Lady said when we reached her portrait. "What can I do for you wrongdoers today?"

We had an odd relationship with this one painting. Although very taken with us at first, she had thought we were the cutest things, she quickly became very vexed after our frequent late night excursions. Often she'd be woken up at four in the morning by one or all of us, demanding entrance to the tower. However, as it was the start of term, and we hadn't really snuck out since the full moon two weeks ago, she seemed fairly amiable.

"Just entrance into the tower, please," I said.

"Password?" she asked.

"Poppycock," I said confidently.

"Ah, but you need a password to get in!" she said, smiling.

Sirius rolled his eyes next to me. He and she had never really gotten on, maybe because I would sometimes kick him out from the invisibility cloak for the hell of it and he'd be the one to tell her the password in the small hours of the morning. Let me tell you, that did not endear one to the Fat Lady. No, not at all. That woman was crazed about her sleep, like practically _manic._

"Poppycock," I repeated.

"Sure, sure, dear," she said, and laughed as she swung forward.

"Honestly, Prongs, I don't understand how you stand her," Sirius said, shuddering as he sank into one of the couches by the fire.

"She's not that bad." I shrugged.

Sirius gave a grunt to signal a contradiction to my statement.

Peter merely looked bored as he got out his parchment to write his required letter. I looked to Remus, he clearly had an expression on his face that said 'let it go.'

"How do I start this bloody thing?" Sirius said after a minute, looking completely lost.

I stared at the blank piece of parchment sitting on my lap, empathizing for Padfoot completely. Leaning over, I tried to see what Remus had written. He already had two paragraphs! "Bloody hell, Moony, what novel are you writing?" I asked, totally dumbfounded.

"Nothing," Remus said defensively. "Honestly," he started as he saw my parchment and then Sirius's, "Just write about yourself. That's all McGonagall is looking for. An attempt to get to know the other person!"

Well. Evans was always going on about how I love to talk about myself. I can surely do that in written form, right?

_Hello,_

_I feel kind of bizarre writing to what I think of as a perfect stranger, but here goes nothing. I don't know how much personal stuff we're allowed to share, but here it is._

_Maybe I should start off with my likes and dislikes? I love Quidditch and I love flying. In Defence Against the Dark Arts I'm fully planning on using my first memory of flying as the happy memory to produce my Patronus, just to show you, oh anonymous one, how much flying means to me. I don't know if you fly regularly or not, but the feeling of the wind in my hair and the adrenaline with being up so high is quite intoxicating. It's just that as a Quidditch game starts, all my terrestrial problems seem to melt away as I focus on that one red ball. I even stop hearing the crowd of students after a while; it's just me and my team members fighting for a worthy goal bigger than us. Although it sounds hopelessly grandiose to you, this is actually is what goes though my head when thinking about that Merlin's gift to wizards, the glory that is embodied in Quidditch. _

_You're probably laughing at me right now. Well, reading back on it, my words do seem a bit overdone. Oh well. I'd cross it out, but my best mate just nicked my eraser and then threw it in the fire to spite me after I made fun of his handwriting. And that's how I'm thanked for helpful criticism. All I said was that he needed to work on differentiating between his Vs and Us. Does that warrant the harmful destruction of property? No, I don't think so. _

_Right?_

_Dislikes, then? I hate dancing, painting, singing, drawing... don't even get me started on sculpting. Basically art and I don't mix very well. I mean, you can sometimes catch me singing, but it's entirely to make my mates' ears bleed if they won't bugger off, or something. Even poetry is hopelessly beyond me. Now, I can _appreciate_ these things, I can ooh and aah over a landscape or tap my foot to the WWN, but hand me a paint brush or a microphone, and my mates know to warn anyone away within a ten metre radius if they want to keep their sanity (Oh wait, that doesn't make a lot of sense. I don't rightly know how a painting would cause you to go insane, but I'm quite confident that I can somehow manage it). Or you know, their body parts intact, because if someone gives me clay; I'm not ashamed to admit that I'd rather throw it at someone I dislike than attempt a very poorly done duplication of a worm. Or a blob, as the case may be._

_Cheers_

_Well. I don't want to sound like a tosser and include no salutation. I think McGonagall would allow an initial, right? It's not even associated with my first or surname so I'll assume it's acceptable._

_So I repeat; Cheers, H_


	3. In which L overhears J

**A/N: Nope, not mine**

* * *

What, dear Merlin, was that? Did I have a civil conversation with Potter? One that consisted of a promise to attend a Heads meeting, and didn't consist of any date offers?

Trying to figure out what the hell that was all about, I wandered back, a little confused, out of the Great Hall. Apparently I was too befuddled to walk straight because I physically bumped into someone halfway through the Entrance Hall.

Rubbing my shoulder where it forcefully made contact with someone's hard chest, I looked up. The person I practically bowled into was holding my elbows, steadying my stance as I regained my balance.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," I said quickly, straightening and looking my unfortunate victim.

He was a Hufflepuff, judging from the yellow insignia on his robes, and I recognized him as one of the many prefects. He had dark wavy hair that his kind brown eyes that were looking concernedly up and down my body.

"No problem, you okay?" he asked, letting go of my arms.

"Um, yeah," I said embarrassedly, brushing off my robes.

He smiled. "Good. No harm done." He paused, studying my face. "Lily, you're friends with Alice, right?"

"Alice? Sure," I said slowly, trying to associate a name with his face. Got it! Frank, Frank Longbottom. I gave a miniscule sigh of relief. "So what can I do for you Frank?"

"Er," He looked deliberately down at the floor, "How is she?" he asked my shoes.

"Fine," I said. "Why?"

"Just wondering," he said quickly. "I, er, kinda tripped her earlier today," he admitted.

"Right! I remember now," I said, smiling. "She was late to McGonagall."

He looked up at me, aghast.

"Don't worry," I said, laughing at his suddenly worried expression. "No harm done. If it helps, I'm sure that she would have tripped anyway, with or without your help. A hopeless klutz, that mate of mine," I shook my head in hopelessness.

His horrified expression subsided and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Anyway," I continued, "Do you want to see her or something?" I asked. "I'm headed to the library right now, meeting her there, in fact. Want to come with?"

He paused. "Um, no," he said apologetically. "Have to see Professor Sprout about something."

"Oh okay," I said, turning to leave. "I'll see you around Frank, yeah?"

He nodded and I left.

I entered the library, looking around for Alice. Wandering around the many bookcases, I finally spotted her at a secluded table close to the Restricted Section.

"Hey Alice," I said quietly as I sat down next to her.

"Lily!" she said loudly in surprise, earning her a glare from Madame Pince.

"How was it?" she asked eagerly, dropping her quill in excitement. "Oh damn," she bemoaned, looking down at the splatters of blank ink that now dotted her parchment. "Oh well, so what happened?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I said, frowning slightly as I remembered Potter's odd behaviour.

"Nothing?" Alice repeated, looked fairly disappointed.

"Absolutely nothing," I bit my lip. "As in no date offers, no jokes, no horrible pick up lines." I watched as Madam Pince drifted away, instead focusing her scrutiny on a couple of Third Years giggling loudly a few rows away.

"Really?" Alice asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah. It was bizarre," I said as I bent down to get a piece of blank parchment out of my bag and my quill.

"Just 'bizarre?'" Alice quoted shrewdly. "Not the most joyful experience of my whole existence? Not the memory I will cherish forever? Not even..."

"No," I said shortly as I uncorked my inkbottle to write my first letter.

I cringed internally as I saw a smile bloom over Alice's round face. "Wait, Lily, you're not telling me that-"

"No!" I nearly shouted. "Nothing of the short," I said quickly, attempting to cover my outburst.

Alice's grin got, if possible, wider. "I didn't even finish my sentence." She was staring at me, all thoughts of her ruined parchment dashed.

"No need," I responded, my quill hovering over my unwritten letter. "I knew exactly where you were going."

"Well," Alice started, her lips pursed, "Can't you at least admit aloud to me in this deserted corner of the library, multiple rows away from prying eyes and listening ears, while most people are still at dinner, with Madame Pince all the way back at her desk-"

"You've made your point Alice," I cut her off. "We're alone. What do you want me to say?"

She huffed in annoyance. "That you don't detest James Potter nearly as much as you let on."

"He breaks rules all the time," I said, finally setting quill to parchment.

"And?" Alice asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "So do a lot of people."

"He doesn't pay attention in class."

"Neither do I," Alice exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Yet you deem me worthy enough to spend time with."

"He has dirty thoughts about me."

I could tell Alice was almost driven to banging her head against the table in frustration. "Merlin, Lily. Half the school has perverted thoughts about you. James happens to be the only one who ever says them aloud in your company. The rest don't say them aloud because they're worried James will throttle them to death if they do. Quite chivalrous, if you ask me."

I decided not to respond to her obviously problematic last statement. "He is immature," I said instead.

"He's seventeen!" Alice said. "You can't expect seventeen year olds to act like adults all the time. I think they're funny. Nice refresher from all the heavy exams."

"He's arrogant."

Alice sighed. "He's not as bad as he was."

I paused, searching for another reason not to like James Potter. "He has stupid hair," I floundered.

Alice gaped at me and then started to laugh. "That's the best you got?" Alice asked through giggles. "'Stupid hair'?" She paused, thinking. "That's such a lie."

"It is not!" I protested loudly.

"Sure it is," Alice said, smiling hugely. "Remember over the summer when we celebrated your seventeenth birthday together?"

I put down my quill from my letter. "Yeah?" I asked, unsure of where she was going with this. I stayed over at Alice's during August – there was no way I was ever in a million years going to willingly spend time with Vernon Dursley, my sister's fiancé, who was currently visiting the house every other day – and my birthday fell on our first weekend together. Alice somehow convinced me to go out drinking now that I was of age. Shamefully, it was only my second time indulging and I had no idea what a damn lightweight I was. Completely, staggeringly drunk, I remember stumbling into the Greengrass's house, giggling madly and acting like a right idiot.

"Do you remember what happened that night?" Alice asked, eyes twinkling.

"Um no?" I said, grimacing. "Next morning I was too focused on heaving my guts out and swallowing every pain medicine known to man to try to dredge up any memories of the night before. Mostly blurs, as I recall," I said, shuddering at the memory of the morning after.

"We met some people," Alice said enigmatically.

I narrowed my eyes at her obvious attempt at being annoyingly vague. "Who?" I said irritably, with a niggling suspicion that I knew exactly who had witnessed me so incredibly drunk.

"Rhymes with Schmarauders?" she said, grinning.

"No!" I practically shouted. "Why were they at that stupid pub in the first place?" I asked, lowering my voice in case Pince was wandering around near us.

"They live in Godric's Hollow too." Alice shrugged. "Or at least, James does."

"What the hell?"

"Popular wizarding village. Anyway we met up with them, and by that time you had had one too many." She sniggered. "Or, you know, five to many; never mind the details, and the Marauders were also a bit out of it, although not as bad as you, dear mate of mine." Alice patted my arm affectionately as I scowled at her.

"And?" I urged her.

"Well, you got all excited, began nudging me like there was no tomorrow, saying 'lookit Allie, it's _James, Sirius, Remus and Peter!_' over and over again until they came over.

"Then when they finally took notice of you – I admit getting on top of the bar and puking your guts out does get people's attention – they stuck around for a bit and had a few more drinks.

"I mean," she paused in her narration, "at a different pub because we got thrown out of that first one. Hung out for a couple of minutes outside when you protested the idea of going home, and then when you finally relented, they," she stopped again to remember, "here it gets a bit fuzzy because I was pretty smashed by that time too, but no, not 'they,' I'm fairly certain it was only James who came home with us."

"Came home?" I squeaked.

"Naw, not into the house, if that was what you were thinking," Alice assured me. "He saw us to the door. That boy can sure hold his liquor," she said admiringly.

"And he didn't," I stopped and cleared my throat, "er, do anything?"

"He only smiled when you amazed us all with a rendition of the national anthem, as opposed to the rest of us who were rolling around on the floor in hysterics. Quite a feat, I must say."

I frowned. "That's not what I meant."

Alice laughed. "Of course it isn't. No need to get your wand in a knot, I know what you're oh-so-subtly hinting at. He only gave you an innocent peck on the cheek after he safely saw us home."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "No drunken snogs or..." I drifted off.

"Nope," Alice said, finally starting her Potions essay due tomorrow. "And before you go confront him, it only lasted less than a second. He got pretty jittery about it afterward, and sprinted off to rejoin his mates."

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Yeah. That boy as amazing self control." Alice sighed wistfully. "Looking back on it, I should have let him get a bit more action."

"Alice, you're not telling me that you would have let him take advantage of me in that state?" I glared.

"Well," Alice said after a beat, "But then it would resolve all that sexual tension you two have got going on."

Sexual tension? Sexual tension my arse. Bah! All I felt around James Potter were murderous inclinations that I must squash. Or at least suppress temporarily. McGonagall would not take it too kindly if I up and strangled the Head Boy. Was provocation a legitimate excuse? Somehow I don't think the Wizengamot would see it my way. Oh well.

"What sexual tension?" I asked Alice loudly. "You're delusional. There is no sexual tension," I insisted stubbornly.

"Well. Maybe," Alice said doubtfully, and then regained her previously mischievous demeanour. "Not yet, but there will be!" she declared proudly, "when you finally realize that he's an alright bloke and finally fancy him like you ought to."

"There is no reason to fancy James Potter. There never will be," I retorted.

"Certainly not, since he has such 'stupid hair,'" Alice said, snorting with laughter.

Sometimes my strangulation thoughts strayed from their most popular victim, Potter. Like now. Alice must die soon if she continues on with these Lily-and-James themed thoughts. Because that was never going to happen. Ever. I mean, how awful did 'Lily and James Potter' sound? It's just unnatural. Er, not that she was thinking that I should marry the bloke. Not at all. Just that I should date him. Of course.

And this is when I came to the conclusion that I need a new best mate.

"Plus, you don't really think so," Alice said, her voice breaking through my train of thought.

"Oh no?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. You said so yourself."

"Really." I leaned back to survey her face more intently.

"You said, and I quote to the best of my ability," she rubbed her temples, trying to remember, "I was pretty plastered at the time – 'Oh James, do you know I find your hair extremely sexy?' and then you went on to illustrate the other parts of his anatomy you find 'sexy,'" she grinned back up at me.

I looked at her, beyond horrified. What in Merlin's name possessed me to say those things? To Potter, nonetheless? I think I just might die of embarrassment.

I seized her by the shoulders and moaned, "Alice, what the hell else did I _say?_"

"Er, I think I let you mention his hair, like I said before, and then his Quidditch biceps, you then went on for a bit over his arse. I stopped you after that, I think. Doesn't matter." She shrugged.

"It so matters!" I yelped. "Please Alice," I pleaded.

"James forgot anyway," Alice said offhandedly while I was having a mental breakdown at her side.

"Forgot?" I said, suddenly delighted.

"Oh yeah, poor bloke." She shook her head sadly. "Owled me the next morning, asking if I'd seen his shoes."

I looked at her questioningly.

"Oh yeah, apparently after they left us, the Marauders continued to drink, and James was so pissed that he somehow lost one of his shoes. Later explained in the note that he couldn't really remember anything either and asked me to tell him what happened," she laughed. "Didn't really trust his mates to recount the truth. Who would blame him really?" she asked rhetorically.

"And what did you tell him?" I asked her urgently.

"Er, that we met up, and drank a bit together and then went home. That's it."

I relaxed back into my seat, relieved. "So Potter knows nothing of my, er, adventures from that night?"

"Nope. Not a thing," Alice said casually, returning to her abandoned essay.

"Oh. Good then." I too turned to my half written letter. Deciding that it was all rubbish, I crumpled up the piece of parchment into a wad. Sighing, I took out another sheet and began again.

_Dear pen-pal_ – I settled on as a greeting, "dear correspondent" sounded too formal.

_I don't know about you, but I'm finding it incredibly hard to figure out what to tell you. I come from a family of four that consists of my mum, my dad and an older sister two years my senior. All very ordinary, I'm sad to say. In advance, I warn you, this letter is bound to be terribly boring; I'm afraid my life is pretty dull._

_Personally, I'm very academically oriented. My studies come first before just about everything, save my best mate or sometimes a good book. My favourite subject is Charms; I absolutely adore Flitwick. Do you know, he used to be some sort of duelling champion? I imagine the lack of height must make it easier to doge all those curses... My least favourite subject must be History of Magic. I mean, when will we ever in later life need to know the date that Danolyn the Demented accidentally demolished Danzig? What's with the alliteration anyway? Everything in that class seems to begin with the same consonant. It's unsettling. Not that I regularly dwell on the oddity that is Wizarding History; it's just something I noticed while pretending to listen to Binns while doodling images of my classmates on my parchment. After seven years in that class, I think I have built up my nonexistent talent so that I can earn serious compliments like: "I think that looks like 'insert name here' if you squint really hard and tilt you head 90 degrees" as opposed to my best mate's response when she caught me drawing back in second year, "Is that some sort of troll-goblin hybrid? It's kind of disturbing." It was actually a drawing of my best mate, although at the time I had enough sense not to tell her so. After I graduate I'm going to try to become an Auror, and I'm absolutely sure that there is no way that I'll ever have to memorize another date again. Thank Merlin for that._

_During my free time – something that is becoming an increasingly rare experience what with NEWTs and other responsibilities that are being shoved at me – I like to read and sometimes play chess if I can find someone who is patient enough to play with me. I tend to think my moves through with deliberation; although my best mate is under the impression that my strategy is to bore her to death so that she loses on purpose to end the torture. _

Here I paused again, unsure of how to end my slightly rambling letter.

After a few crossings out, I simply signed it _Sincerely, a friend._

I looked up at Alice, who was busy tapping the side of her quill to her head as she thought of another point to add to her essay. "How's it coming?" I asked quietly.

"Okay, I guess," she admitted. "I still have another four inches though. I mean, how else does a newt's liver affect the outcome of a sleeping solution?"

"Here, let me look at it," I said, reaching my hand out for her piece of parchment. I looked at my watch. It was only nine thirty.

"Oh Lily you're a lifesaver," Alice muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing her face.

I quickly scanned her essay which gradually became more long-winded as Alice scrambled for something to add and shook my head at her handwriting which became bigger and messier as she ran out of things to say.

"Just write a bit about how newt's liver has a sort of numbing sensation on the brain and how that increases the likelihood of drowsiness, and I think that'll do it."

"Brill, Lily," Alice said with a grateful glance in my direction as she set to work. "After I finish, do you want to head out of here? Back to the common room or something?"

"Sure," I said, then backtracked. "Wait, first I think I'll mail my letter that I just finished."

"Kay," Alice muttered distractedly as she finished her essay.

"I'll meet you there," I said as I gathered my things to go.

I exited the library, passing by Madam Pince who was stamping and endless pile of books, and made it to the owlery. My small grey owl fluttered down to meet me and held out its leg expectantly. "Here you go," I murmured quietly. As soon as the owl took off I left.

It was as I made my way down the charms corridor, I stopped as I heard a familiar sounding noise.

Someone was crying.

I quickened my pace to the source of the noise. As Head Girl it fell under my responsibility to stop things like that; homesick first years, teased second years, even the occasional heartbroken fourth year... etc.

However, before I could reach the upset student, the sound stopped suddenly, before resuming a bit quieter than before. Curiously I heard murmurs in the breaks between the sobs. I crept closer until I was right next to the doorway of the unused classroom where the sounds were issuing from and could distinguish words.

"-just that I didn't even know what they meant!" came from the doorway, punctuated with heaving breaths and the occasional stutter.

"There, there," the second person said awkwardly. My eyes widened in surprise. I recognized that voice. Despite the absence of its usual confidence, I'd never heard it say something so sincerely. "Are you alright? Physically, I mean," Potter amended. "I can see you're pretty torn up, er, emotionally."

"Yeah," hiccupped a small female voice.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Vance."

"Your first name?" Potter asked quietly.

"Emmeline."

"Hello Emmeline," Potter said, deliberately using her first name, "My name's James."

"I know," Emmeline said softly.

"Oh you do eh? My reputation precedes me then," Potter told her, attempting to get a smile out of her. I assumed that it failed because he then took on a more serious tone. "Their spells didn't do anything?" he inquired. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," she repeated. Must be a first year, I thought.

"Because I can take you to the hospital wing if you're in any way hurt. Madam Pomfrey absolutely adores me, just ask anyone," he boasted. "Just don't reveal our secret affaire, okay? It gets me free extra pillows and sleeping solutions."

She gave a shaky giggle.

I could just picture his eyebrows wiggling up and down comically, and his glasses slipping down his nose.

"And believe me," he added, "when you sleep in the same dorm as my mate Wor-Pete, you need a good sleeping solution some nights. Snores like you won't believe."

"No, I-I'm okay." I heard her sigh heavily.

I was relieved to notice that her reply was free of any sobs, although it did stutter a bit.

"You're alright?" Potter asked again and then paused. I assumed the first year nodded in response, because nothing was said for a second.

"Well then, can you at least tell me who did this to you?" he asked, his voice taking on a hard edge.

"I don't know all their names," she said, and this time her small voice wavered dangerously.

"Can you describe them to me?" he pressed as I heard movement inside the room. I peeked through the doorjamb, and saw Potter, his back to me, kneeling on the floor so that he was eye level with a small teary eyed first year sitting on a desk.

"Houses?"

Emmeline breathed in deeply, steeling herself to speak. "Slytherin," she whispered.

"I see," Potter said shortly, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "And can you tell me what they looked like?" I could tell he was staring her in the eyes.

I gaped. This was the most serious I had ever seen Potter in the seven years I had known him. It was illuminating, to say the least.

She glanced around nervously before responding. "One was tall, taller than you, he had," she gulped, stabilizing her breath as the sobs threatened again, "blond hair. I think one of other," she paused here, futilely searching for the appropriate name for her attackers. Giving up, she continued, "er, she called him like Amy-something."

Potter ran his hands through his hair, evidently thinking hard.

After a moment in which Potter was uncharacteristically silent, the first year continued, "the other one, she was tall too. They looked similar." She gulped.

Emmeline was not finished, and I pressed my ear closer to the door jamb to hear her words, which had gotten infinitely quieter. I could see that the tears had resumed their previous course down her cheeks.

Potter got up from his kneeling position to pace as the first year continued her description. I could see that his walk was jerky, and his hand jumped to muss his hair every few seconds.

"I was-" the tears ran faster and Emmeline now seemed like she had trouble breathing, "-walking back from the loos, and they called out to me. The spells started after a few sec-" She broke off, unable to continue.

"Those blo-" Potter began angrily, but then stopped as he realized his present company, instead he began walking again. "Carrow," he muttered under his breath. "Of course Amycus and Alecto."

Mumbling darkly to himself, Potter looked around when the first year gave a particularly loud sniff. Suddenly his scowl transformed itself into a concerned smile. "Don't worry, Em," Potter said softly, kindly taking off his tie and using the end to wipe away her tears. "We'll get her, don't worry," he promised. He folded up his tie and pressed it into her small hand for later use.

Emmeline simply continued to stare at him.

Potter continued smile at her, but to me it seemed a forced. "Look, why don't we get you back to your dorm? I can see you're a Gryffindor," he said, fingering the house symbol on her chest. "Fantastic house, if I do say so myself." He puffed out his chest slightly.

It earned him a watery smile.

"Come on, we can get you in bed, it's getting late, and how about in an hour I'll send the Head Girl up to check on you? In case you have trouble sleeping? Have some girl talk or whatever."

Emmeline nodded, looking a great deal calmer now that Potter announced his plan to see her back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Want to see a magic trick?" He asked her, his smile a great deal more sincere now that she seemed alright. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. "Sounds like a good idea?"

Emmeline nodded.

"Appeario Evansium!" he said, pulling out his wand and making a ridiculous show of fancy waves and jabs.

Nothing happened. Bemused, I watched Emmeline, whose smile had gotten larger at Potter's crazy pseudo-spell.

"Sorry, Em, maybe I got that wrong," he said sheepishly. "Apperio Head-Girlium!" He shouted louder, staring right at the door.

The first year watched him again, and this time he did some sort of dance as well as waving his arm around like a lunatic. Giggling, she stared at him with wide eyes as he even took one of her hands and twirled her around the room for a bit.

"Well," Potter panted, "I guess I'll have do it the old fashioned way, eh?" He said, winking at her again. "Oi, Evans! Get your eaves-dropping bum in here!"

Damn.

Clearly, I wasn't as sneaky as I thought I was.

"Way to ruin the moment, Evans," Potter scolded me as I sauntered into the deserted classroom, save for the first year and Head Boy. "You were supposed to appear the first time I said the spell." He wagged his finger at me reproachfully.

"Well, Potter," I said dismissively, "I would have, if you had gotten it right in the first place. Not my fault if you can't do the spell properly."

He took on a highly affronted look, "I'll have you know, it's certainly not my fault that you are too dense for it to work."

"Huh?" I said jokingly. "Dense? Me?" I said, shaking my head in a disbelieving manner. "I am nowhere near _dense._ Maybe it's because _you're_ too dense to know that adding 'ium' and 'io' and the end of words do not make a spell," I said, shaking my finger at him sadly. "Emmeline knows that, surely," I looked at her.

She nodded, a smile still playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, Em," Potter continued, playing along, "Now that the esteemed Head Girl has finally meandered into our company, I'll turn you over to her, yeah? You'll be glad. Evans will probably be loads better at this comforting thing than I am."

"You were all I needed," Emmeline said quietly, blushing furiously.

Potter's face broke into its first true smile of the night. "Thanks," he said muttered, curiously enough a little embarrassed. He checked wrist. "I need to start rounds in a few minutes, and despite common misconception," he winked at her, "I cannot be in two places at once." He let go of her hand and raked his hand through his hair one more time. We both watched him lazily walk out of the classroom.

"Oi Evans," he called over his shoulder to me as he reached the doorway, "Have her back by eleven, won't you? Don't want her folks to get too antsy."

"Yeah, yeah, Mister Potter!" I yelled, and I heard him chuckle as he left us.

"Well then," I said as I followed in Potter's footsteps out the door with Emmeline trailing quietly behind me, "Let's do as Potter asked. Gryffindor Tower's not that far. I don't think you'll even break curfew," I said reassuringly.

Emmeline looked up at me. "Do you think they'll come back?" she asked quietly.

"No," I said truthfully, as I put my arm around her protectively. "Knowing Potter, he's probably already at the Headmaster's office to personally file your complaint with Dumbledore," I said as we walked out of the classroom and down the hallway onto Gryffindor Tower. "That boy knows the castle like the back of his hand. I don't know how he does it.

"You needn't be afraid with James Potter looking out for you," I told her seriously. "He is one of the most loyal people I have ever encountered, and values friendship above all everything else. As his friend, I'm sure he won't let anything happen to you." I paused, unsure of what to say next. "You were very brave tonight, and I for one am proud to be a part of your House."

Emmeline sighed and nodded. I could tell that she didn't feel like her act of heroism was worth it at all because she didn't meet my concerned gaze.

"Do you want me to repair that for you?" I asked as I noticed her torn hem.

She seemed surprised at my question and looked down to where I was pointing. Apparently she hadn't noticed the ripped seam. "Um, sure," she said softly.

Noiselessly I mended her robes. She stared, transfixed, as the threads started to weave back together on their own accord.

"Nonverbal spells," I explained. "You'll learn them sixth year." Unsure of what to say next, I led her silently up a staircase.

I made a bit of idle chatter the rest of the way, focused on keeping the conversation light and away from dark magic or the Carrows. "And so here we are," I said once we stood in front of the Fat Lady.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?" she asked, concernedly from me to the first year and back again.

"Emergency," I said by way of explanation.

"Password?"

"Poppycock," I said. I gave Emmeline a leg up after the Fat Lady swung forward to admit us.

I half expected a whole gaggle of concerned students awaiting our return, but only a handful of fifth and seventh years remained in the common room. Apparently this Wednesday night it was a light night for everyone else. "Come on," I said to Emmeline, urging her to follow me up the staircase.

I stopped as soon as I faced the first year dorm. "Here you are," I said, letting go of her shoulder and pushing the door open. "Do you want me to check on you later?"

Emmeline didn't answer at first, pondering her response. "If it isn't too much trouble," she said nervously.

I smiled down at her. "Of course not," I said firmly. "I'll be back in an hour, alright? If you're asleep, I'll just stick my head in the door. If you're not, I'll come in."

Emmeline nodded.

"Great," I said as I watched her enter her dorm. As soon as she reached her own four poster, I closed the door quietly and left.

"Where were you?" Alice demanded as I entered my own dorms and flopped back on my bed. "Head duties," I said. I didn't really feel like explaining the whole situation to Alice. "Potter was surprisingly civil, and so it lasted longer than normal since I didn't have to storm out any time soon."

That seemed to satisfy her, but I felt a gnawing sensation of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I really had no business to insinuate that Potter had been anything but nice and caring tonight. Giving a groan of frustration that I usually only reserve for Potter, I got out my semi-completed Potions Essay while I waited out my hour to check up on Emmeline.

An hour later, my Potions Essay complete and half my Transfiguration homework done, I crept down the staircase to poke my head in the first years' dormitory. All the lights were out, including the one by Emmeline's bed, and so I reasoned that she must have had little trouble getting to sleep. Poor little thing was probably exhausted.

Satisfied, I also crawled in between my covers soon after. However, unlike Emmeline, I couldn't get to sleep that easily. Potter kept running around my head, driving me mad. One second I was replaying our conversation in McGonagall's special meeting, and then his conversation with Emmeline in that empty classroom. His personality from one to the other seemed worlds apart, and I couldn't help but wonder which one was the real Potter.

Completely mental, that one is, was my final thought before I finally drifted off.

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**


	4. In which J stalks L

**Disclaimer: James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, the Carrows, Dumbledore and Emmeline don't belong to me. **

* * *

I left the classroom confident that Evans would take care of little Em.

It wasn't right at all for the Carrows to pick on first years like that. No, not at all. I paused as I turned a corner, a sudden thought striking me. Deeply unsettled, I turned around. Just because the Carrows had left Em relatively unscathed, that didn't mean that they wouldn't try again. Something had distracted them, I was sure of it. I made up my mind in a flash. Out of the pocket of my robes I pulled out my invisibility cloak. I usually carried it around with me on my rounds, for if I got suddenly hungry during the night and I wanted to sneak down to the kitchens or if I spotted Padfoot with some girl. Then I'd toss it to him if another prefect was coming along.

I stayed where I was, invisible, until Evans' voice came floating to me. "... probably already at the Headmaster's office to personally file your complaint with Dumbledore."

She was talking about me! ...I think. And she wasn't criticizing me either. This has to be a good sign, right?

"That boy knows the castle like the back of his hand," she was saying. "I don't know how he does it," she finished, baffled. I could see her emerald green eyes were wide in wonder from the light of the waning moon outside and her mouth curved in a small smile.

Don't let this get to your head, I prayed silently. Humility, humility, humility! I chanted mentally as I watched Evans walk right past where I was standing.

"You needn't be afraid with James Potter looking out for you," Evans continued.

That woman never ceased to surprise me. Where the hell was she going with this? I strained my ears and eventually resolved to risk her hearing me to listen in on her conversation. I quickened my pace to close the distance between her mouth and my ears.

All for her own personal safety of course, I reasoned with myself as I hurried to catch up with Evans' retreating back.

I'm not a stalker. No, not at all.

Why would you ever think that?

"He is one of the most loyal people I have ever encountered," Evans said firmly, looking down at Em as she spoke to reinforce her comment.

Aw Evans, I love you too.

"...and values friendship above all everything else. As his friend, I'm sure he won't let anything happen to you."

And I'm even stalking you to prove it!

Evans slipped her arm around Em's shoulder before saying, "You were very brave tonight, and I for one am proud to be a part of your House."

Em blinked, surprised at the compliment. I could tell that Evans was trying to convey that her words were heartfelt and not empty flattery. Still, Em looked kind of lost, and kept staring at the ground.

They walked silently for a bit, and I spent the time watching Evans' dark red hair swing seductively behind her as she walked. A couple of times I was tempted to reach out and touch it to see if it was as soft or as silky as I imagined it to be. Each time I thankfully managed to convince myself that going through life with a hand cursed off would not be the best of situations. Always that part of my mind that spoke the welcome words of wisdom seemed to be in Remus's practical voice; sometimes I deeply resented the inherent sensibleness of Moony. If it wasn't for him I'd be a hell of a lot happier. Probably I'd be in a coma too, now that I think of it. Evans knew her way around the right end of a wand, let me tell you.

Suddenly the pair of them stopped, and I nearly fell over in my haste to not bump into them. Merlin, that wouldn't go down too well with Evans. I liked my unmentionables in the state they are, thank you very much.

I didn't hear what Evans said, being too preoccupied with thoughts of Evans and my unmentionables, but whatever it was, it had Em looking grateful. "Um, sure," Em said quietly, staring at the wand Evans pulled out of her pocket.

Evans waved her wand elegantly, and pointed it at Em's robes. I recognized a basic sewing charm and watched as the robe quickly mended itself. Em looked fascinated by the whole process.

"Nonverbal spells," I heard Evans say by way of explanation. "You'll learn them sixth year."

Ah my Evans, always on teaching mode by default when around younger students. Bless her.

They continued on to Gryffindor Tower without much heavy conversation that wasn't really worth eavesdropping. She asked Em about her favourite subjects, teachers and all the other various areas of academia that Evans loved so much.

I sighed as they disappeared behind the portrait. I knew it was going to be a long night. Glancing at my watch, I saw that curfew ended fifteen minutes ago. Bloody hell, I was late to meet Remus. At least he had the map; hopefully he could see that I had a legitimate excuse for being late. Evans always takes top priority, or at least makes me forget the time, at any rate. Moony would understand.

I hoped.

I shoved the cloak into my pocket again now that my maraudering was over for the night. Cursing Evans and my lack of sense, I ran down the seven flights of stairs to meet Remus in the Entrance Hall.

Twenty minutes late, I met Remus at the top of the main stairs. He was looking slightly put out. "Moony, hi!" I panted as soon as I saw him.

He looked at me quizzically. "What took you? Lily?" he accused, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah. Wanted to make sure she got back to the Tower alright."

"Oh yeah?" It's incredible how he can sound and look like a parent. Away from our mums and dads, I think Remus took it upon himself to watch out for us all. Sometimes I think that he would make an ideal parent; he's funny, responsible and knows how to have a good time. If I ever have a kid my first choice for godparent would be good ol' Moony. Too bad Padfoot got me drunk last day of term last year and made me promise to make him godfather of my firstborn. Damn sneaky bugger. I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and Padfoot happily cheering around my bed shouting possible names for my first kid. I was never closer to murder in my life. I guess Moony will get my second. Hopefully he won't be too put out. At school he's the only one who ever got into a fuss when we showed up late or pulled a prank that got too out of hand. Dumbledore sure as hell saw it, that must be why he made him Prefect. That and there was no bleeding way anyone in their right mind would give Sirius a position of authority. Last year alone he set the record of the most detentions earned by a single person in the history of Hogwarts, and he still had one year left to go. And how did he celebrate the momentous detention? By dragging the whole Gryffindor house down with him. Evans was in a right state; it was her first detention ever, and she refused to speak with any of us for about a week. It was bloody awful.

"Yeah!" I said defensively when I had got the majority of my breath back. "There was this first year who was attacked by a couple of older Slytherin students, and I wanted to see her back to the Tower safe," I summarized.

"How'd that go?" Remus asked as we walked up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower where we were supposed to be patrolling.

"Okay, I suppose." I shrugged. "She was very distraught, crying and everything. I did the best I could to keep her from getting hysterical; I think it worked out alright." I gave him a blank look. "I can never be too sure with girls."

Remus scoffed at the thought; obviously he was remembering a couple of, um, successful dates I've had in the past. "Only with one girl." He meant Evans.

"Well. Yeah," I said. "But she's made me question the whole gender altogether."

"Hmm," Remus said in a sagacious tone. "That could be good for you, you know," he continued shrewdly.

"Huh?"

Remus looked around thoughtfully. "Just in general life, I think it's healthy to receive a good blow to the ego once in a while. Keeps you on your toes."

I nodded in response. That made sense.

"Goodness knows, I seem to get that every month." He grimaced.

"Aw Moony, I didn't even know you had an ego to begin with!" I said heartily. Seriously, Remus had to be the most humble person that I've ever known. Funnily enough, the only thing he seemed to be proud of is his friends. Every time we've been over to the Lupins they just raved about how much Moony loved us. It'd be creepy on anyone but Remus, with him I think it was just flattering and kind of endearing.

I mean, they even let us stay inside the house after I purposely started a mud fight in the backyard to see if Remus didn't mind getting a little dirty after second year and when Sirius let his 'dog' dig up the whole garden as a prank summer after fifth.

"Well. It's been growing since I've been hanging out with you lot," Remus said, shaking his head sadly. "I think you and Sirius have helped it achieve enormous proportions."

"I'm proud," I said, laughing. "Nice to know we have some sort of affect on you."

Suddenly Remus took on a serious manner. "How can you doubt that?" he asked rhetorically.

His tone unsettled me. "Come on then, Moony," I said, changing the subject. "Let's go catch wrongdoers and be the epitome of hypocrites!" I said, clapping him on the back as I marched him up the first few Astronomy tower stairs.

"Indeed," said Remus, smiling as we made our way up the stairs, every corner checking for snogging couples. As it was a Wednesday night relatively early in the year, I didn't expected to take away a tonne of house points.

"Oi! Miller and Perkins!" I shouted, trying to keep the disgust out of my voice.

I prayed to Merlin I didn't look like that when I'm snogging some bird. That's bloody gross. For the split second before they jumped apart, it looked like he was trying, and failing, to stick is tongue in her mouth. It got everywhere else, though.

"Five points from Gryffindor and five points from Ravenclaw," Remus said almost lazily. "Get back to your common rooms, both of you," he said.

They scattered at Remus's suggestion, giggling madly.

"I didn't know Miller and Perkins were together," I said conversationally to Remus as we rounded another corner which was thankfully free of people.

"Oh yeah," said Remus offhandedly. "I caught them last week Wednesday too."

We continued up the tower, every once in a while scolding a couple of fourth or sixth years that were attempting to blend in with the shadows. As a master blender myself, I can say with a hearty conviction that they all failed my chosen art dismally. It was actually quite pathetic.

Nothing really exciting happened until we reached the top of the tower. There we heard people, suspiciously familiar people. Oddly enough they seemed to be talking, or shouting, I realized as I got closer.

"No you bloody don't!" a female voice was shouting. "Keep your bleeding hands away from me!"

"What's the big deal?" a male voice responded angrily. "No need to get so up-"

I heard a slap ringing out in the silence.

As I rounded the final stair, I saw Sirius rubbing the side of his face, looking surprised. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I saw you snogging Spellman yesterday!"

"You crazy woman, we were never exclusive!" Sirius exclaimed. "No need to get your pants in a twist." He shook his head.

"You're such a prat, Sirius," she responded and, then seeing us, her eyes widened.

Sirius grinned when he spotted us emerging from the stairwell.

The girl looked outraged. "Fine. I see how it is, ganging up three to one? I can take a hint that I'm not wanted." She stalked off down the tower.

As if to add insult to injury Sirius then called loudly down the stairs, "And that'll be ten points from Ravenclaw, right Moony?" He glanced to Remus for reassurance.

"Er, yeah," Remus said quietly so that she wouldn't hear. "Ten points from Gryffindor as well," he added.

Sirius's mouth fell open. "Wha? Moony, come on..." he wheedled.

"Nope," Remus said, standing his ground. "You're out of bounds after curfew. Sorry Padfoot."

Sirius sighed. "Prongs, back me up."

"Nope," I echoed. "Remus is right."

Remus glanced at me, shocked. I shrugged. I am Head Boy, after all.

Sirius stared at me, thunderstruck. "Prongs, don't make me beg," he said threateningly as he started to walk closer to where I was standing by the stairs. I really didn't like the wicked glint in his eye.

"Oh no, Padfoot," I said slowly, backing up. Sirius begging was not a pretty sight.

"You asked for it Prongs!" Sirius yelped as he jumped to tackle me.

Damn him. He can be such a pain.

Sirius transformed in mid air, and instead of being bowled over by my best mate, I found myself staring into the big brown eyes of an enormous shaggy dog. I staggered a little at the sudden load that was launched upon me. His large paws were resting on my shoulders, and his tail was wagging frantically.

I heard Remus gasping for air next to me. Based on where the noises were coming from, he was actually bent double laughing his arse off. Damn him too! Merlin, why did I have such crap mates?

Sirius gave a loud bark right in my ear. "Merlin, Padfoot, lay off Moony's chocolate, will you? You weigh a bloody tonne!" I yelled.

Sirius grunted in response, his tail wagging even faster.

"Why didn't you attack Moony? He's the one who docked the points in the first place! Why must I be the victim of your horrible dog breath?" I bit out as Sirius continued to breathe in my face. Merlin, that was disgusting. Even more so than the image of Miller and Perkins downstairs.

"Because he knows I won't give him back those points," Remus said between huge gulps of air, clearly fighting to keep control of himself. "You, dear Prongs, however, are much more persuadable."

"That's so not true!" I said, craning my neck to see Remus's amused face.

"Of course it is," he responded as he sat down on the ground to wait.

"What are you doing?" I asked loudly, watching Remus get comfortable.

"Sitting," he said obviously with a horrible air of superiority.

"Yes I bloody well know that, you git. Why are you sitting and not helping me get this wanker off me?" I asked exasperatedly, trying to the best of my ability to ignore the rather large dog invading my personal space. Sirius could be a right prat sometimes.

"I'm waiting until you give in," said Remus calmly, a huge smile still plastered on his face.

"I won't give in!" I said stubbornly, addressing the dog.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, which was soon echoed by Remus. "Really, Prongs, the only thing we know you to be persistent in is Evans; in everything else, mate, you're a horrible push over."

"PADFOOT GET THE FUCK OFF ME BEFORE I DOCK EVEN MORE POINTS!" I yelled in his ear.

He whined pitifully, shaking his head in obvious discomfort. It just so happened that his enormous ears caught me a couple of times around the head as he did so.

I scowled at the sounds of renewed mirth I heard coming from Remus. Well done Moony, you just earned yourself a vicious kick in the shins for all your insufferable laughter tonight.

"Did that hurt?" I asked, patting Sirius's head.

Sirius didn't respond. I figured his ears were still ringing; heightened canine hearing and all that.

"Good." I whacked him over the head with the heel of my hand.

Sirius simply stared at me with his large doggy eyes. The guilt was starting to build in the pit of my stomach now. Merlin, I hated it when he did shit like this.

"Get off, you prat!" I quickly stepped to the side. Sirius was forced down from my shoulders and landed on all fours in front of me. He continued to stare, and now that I was mobile and cognizant of his plans, he knew he couldn't tackle me again.

"Well, Moony, lets finish our rounds, yeah?" I asked my other mate as I glanced down to where he was sitting.

"Sure." He was still breathing heavily from his recent bouts of laughter that must've had him in stitches.

I turned to go, but found the path to the stairway down the tower blocked by Sirius. He was sitting on his haunches and took to glaring at me when I tried to move. "Merlin, Sirius, give it a rest!" I told him forcefully. "I'm not giving you back those ten, insignificant points, just because you're more stubborn than I am. Give up!"

Sirius barked in a very contradictory manner.

I took a step closer, with the intention of simply jumping over the bloody dog. Sirius, however, had different plans. Once I got within a metre of him, Sirius got up and started growling at me. Yes, he actually growled, with exposed teeth and everything. "You do know you're a person, right?" I asked him conversationally.

He just looked at me and kept snarling. "Ooh, scary!" I said, pretending to cower.

Moony laughed, and I could have sworn that Sirius was about to do the same. If dogs could laugh, of course.

"Moony, if I put the invisibility cloak on, do you think I can sneak past him?" I asked, turning to face my other mate and deliberately ignoring the one who was acting like a mental nutcase.

"Naw, don't reckon that'll work, Prongs." Remus shook his head at me. "I think he'll just be able to smell you."

Well that was a kind of a distressing thought.

"What else could I do?" I asked desperately.

"I don't rightly know. You two are both being ridiculously stubborn, so it's a tossup over who'll come out the winner." Remus grinned.

"Fantastic," I moaned.

Meanwhile Sirius gave a loud whine. Apparently he didn't like being ignored.

I retreated to where Remus was sitting. Sirius sat back down, looking the picture of innocence as he stared dolefully up at me. Again with the guilty conscience!

I deliberately looked away from him and his large puppy eyes and started up a conversation with Remus. Unfortunately, Sirius would have none of that. He got up and padded his way over to where I was sitting. He then figured the most opportune place to rest would be on my extended legs.

"Oi, Padfoot, bugger off," I muttered angrily, attempting to push him off my offended limbs.

Sirius barked happily, clearly very pleased with the current state of affairs.

Remus also looked extremely amused.

Needless to say, I was ready to hex them both to hell and back.

"Padfoot, I'm warning you now, get lost!" I said, attempting to shove his very solid bulk off my person. Instead, Sirius made himself a little more comfortable and continued watching me. He settled down and rested his head on his paws, looking up at me with his big brown eyes.

I pulled out my wand in a very angry manner, fully ready to curse him off. Looking down in the region around my knees, I saw Sirius give a pitiful whine.

Bugger.

"Bloody hell, you know I hate you, right?" I asked him tightly. I paused. "Ten points to Gryffindor," I muttered.

"Excuse me?" said Remus loudly, cupping a hand around his ear with a wicked grin on his face.

"Yeah, what was that?" Sirius asked, transforming back into a man. "Go on Prongs, we didn't hear you." His expression was jubilant.

"I despise you all!" I said loudly. "And get _off_ my legs!"

"You know, Padfoot," said Remus conversationally, "I don't think that's what he said."

"I think you're right, Moony." Sirius tilted to his head to the side as he looked at me.

Suddenly I heaved all my might and Sirius fell of me and into Remus, who abruptly stopped chuckling as he got the wind knocked out of him.

Laughing at the both of them, I brushed off my robes. "Merlin, Padfoot, isn't there some sort of spell to stop you shedding all over my robes?"

"What's the problem, Prongs?" Sirius asked confusedly. "Fur's black, your robes are black..."

I shook my head. "Still shows up." I checked my watch. "Look, it's nearly midnight. Rounds are over," I looked to Remus for confirmation, who quickly nodded, "So I have to go see Dumbledore, hopefully he's still awake," I said worriedly.

"Why Dumbledore? You're not in trouble, are you?" Sirius asked as he got up. "Not that it would be a bad thing, at any rate," he said quickly. He still had a problem with the fact that his best mate somehow earned the horror of all horrors, the Head Boy badge.

"No, nothing like that," I said tiredly. "A student got attacked. It even made me late to patrol. Reckon it's something I should tell Dumbledore?"

Remus nodded again, and Sirius said, "Think so, mate. Attacked? Blimey, that's not good. By who?"

I didn't answer because I knew Sirius would react badly. Any attacks or bouts of dark magic had him all set to curse the next Slytherin student he could find. I suppose it came from living with his parents who were too friendly with the Dark Arts. Not that he associated himself with the Blacks anymore, it was just that he sometimes tended to overreact over things. Instead I just called, "Would you look at the time? See you in the dormitories!" over my shoulder as I ran downstairs.

I walked purposefully down the moonlight hallways on the way to the headmaster's office. Thankfully nothing exceptional happened. It was later than most couples bothered to stay out, even if they managed to evade the prefects.

I rounded a corner and found myself facing a couple of stone gargoyles.

"Oh look here," one said, turning its ugly stone head to face its companion,"It's that Potter kid again."

"That's me."

"What'd you do this time, laddie?" the other asked, leering shrewdly up at me.

"Nothing," I said shortly.

The gargoyles scoffed in disbelief. Hey, I didn't blame them; I'd been called to the headmaster's office often enough for them to recognize me and associate my name with trouble.

However, I was not going to spend my time out here having a conversation with a couple of hunks of rock. It was nearly midnight, "Sugar Quill," I spoke confidently.

Bypassing the muttering statues, I climbed up Dumbledore's spiral staircase until I reached the large wooden door with the griffin door knocker. I banged it couple of times; the sound echoed loudly within.

Anxiously I raked my hands a few times through my hair as I waited outside.

Bloody hell, it was nearly a quarter past midnight. Of course Dumbledore was asleep. Hell, I should be asleep. Even if he wasn't, he'll most likely tell me off for waking him up so late anyway. And I was doing so well, only one detention so far this year; Evans will kill me. I guess I had a nice life. Good friends, good food, good – if unattainable – girl to fancy. Please tell Padfoot that he could get my invisibility cloak since he's the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, and tell Evans that I loved her, even if she's the one cursing me in the first place.

"Enter," came Dumbledore's voice from within after a moment, interrupting my morbid thoughts.

"Hi Professor," I said cheerily once I found him awake and sorting through papers on his desk.

"James, to what do I owe this very late pleasure?" Dumbledore asked, gazing at me over his half moon spectacles. "Please sit," he smiled and indicated the comfortable looking chair seated before his desk.

"Thanks, Professor," I said. "I'm sorry I'm so late, but I had to do my rounds first else Evans would've killed me. Anyway, it's an emergency," I explained.

Dumbledore stared at me for a second. I swore sometimes his looks made it seem like he could read my mind or something. The only thing that dissuaded me of this notion was that he definitely would have seen our whole illegal-animagus-plan-to-help-Moony-with-his-furry-little-problem thing going on. Needless to say our arses would have gotten kicked out of Hogwarts and into Azkaban before Sirius could say an "Oi!" of protest.

"I walking on my way to the fifth floor when I found a first year crying in an empty classroom," I began.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said sadly. He shuffled his papers around one final time so that they would no longer prove a distraction. Clearly giving his full attention, he folded his hands on top of his desk and surveyed me once more.

I cleared my throat before I continued. "At first I just thought she was homesick or something, but I eventually got the full story out of her." I paused in my tale, unsure of what to say next. "She told me that she was attacked by a couple of older students who objected to her blood status," I finished slowly.

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly, and then said, "James, this is very serious." He opened his eyes again and peered directly into my eyes.

"I know, sir," I responded immediately, scooting forward to the edge of my seat and sitting up straight.

"Which student was attacked?"

"A Gryffindor, Emmaline Vance," I said. "She also managed to describe her assailants to me, and I gathered that they were Slytherin seventh years."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Amycus and Alecto Carrow," I said in one breath.

"I see." Dumbledore got up and began pacing his office behind his desk. "James, and did Miss Vance need to go to the hospital wing at all?"

"No, sir," I said as my eyes drifted around his office. "She was pretty upset emotionally, but physically she was fine. I asked her, multiple times," I shook my head. "I had Evans walk her back to the dormitory and check up on her later tonight."

Dumbledore looked at me, evidently a little surprised. "That was very," he stopped. "Responsible of you, James."

"You sound surprised, Professor!"

"Indeed I am," replied Dumbledore, the usual twinkle in his blue eyes slightly dimmed by disturbing news I had just delivered.

"I can be responsible," I said defensively, leaning back in my seat.

"Oh I know," Dumbledore said nonchalantly.

I pushed my glasses further up my nose to see him better. "Yeah, Professor? Then why are you seem so shocked?"

"Because I didn't think it would manifest itself quite this soon."

Like Evans, that man never ceased to surprise me.

"I thought Miss Evans would have to figuratively beat you around the head a few more times until you got the message," admitted Dumbledore, smiling slightly from his position halfway across the office.

"I'm offended, Professor," I said, shaking my head slightly. "No way would I let Evans walk over me like that."

"Oh no?" Dumbledore contradicted as he walked back to sit down in his seat.

"Er, well," I said, a bit lost for words. Truthfully, Evans had been controlling most of my actions since fourth year. Even Dumbledore knew it!

Merlin.

Dumbledore sensed my discomfort. Smiling slightly he said, "If that's all James, you're free to go."

Relieved, I got up and turned for the door.

"But rest assured," I turned back around to see that the smile was quite gone from Dumbledore's face. "That those students will be punished accordingly. Good night."

"Good." I sighed. "See you tomorrow, Professor," and with that, I left his office.

* * *

**A/N: I suppose that you must like this story even a little to read through my three chapters so far, so you must have oodles of things to say about it. You know, there's a handy way of letting me know... those pesky things called reviews are awesome. You should try them some time. *hint, hint* **


	5. In which L is partnered with J

**A/N:Ok guys, I got 12 reviews for the last chapter! Wow! keep it up!**

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I awoke to the usual sound of my alarm clock at seven. Groaning, I turned over in my bed as all the events of the night before came flooding into my consciousness. Bloody Potter and his bloody problems needed to go kill himself with his bloody Head Boy badge and save me from all these bloody conflicting feelings.

Ugh.

"Hello Lily!" an awful loud cheery voice shouted in my ear.

"Mphff," I said into my pillow.

"Come now, that's no way to greet your best mate first thing in the morning!" said Alice disapprovingly. I felt something soft hit me quite hard around the head.

I turned over and sat up straight. "Oi! What was that for?" I complained to the blurry form that gradually settled into the image of Alice holding a scarlet pillow in her right hand.

"For not being as happy as I am," Alice said with a small shrug of her shoulders.

I flopped back down on my bed. "Not now Alice," I moaned, "too early."

Alice was what most people call a morning person. I think it must be an endangered species. As I looked around me I saw that everyone else in our dorm was still sleeping or drowsily sitting up and yawning. I saw in the corner that Mary was still snoring happily into her pillow. Damn her.

By this point I've stopped really telling Alice to lay off me first thing in the morning. Frankly I'm happy she didn't start jumping on my bed like she did almost every day in second year.

I finished getting dressed. Dashing past the mirror, I spared quick glance to check that my hair wasn't a complete disaster. I traipsed downstairs to the Great Hall after Alice.

"Herbology first," I reminded her as we sat down at the Gryffindor table.

I always told her what our timetable was; two weeks into school already and she still hadn't memorized which classes she had. Pathetic, really. Knowing Alice she'll just remember her whole timetable about a week before Winter Holidays and then forget it again by the time we get back.

"Great," Alice said right before taking a huge bite out of a nearby muffin, "Can't wait," she finished once she had swallowed.

"Why?"

"No reason," she said quickly, ducking behind a large goblet of pumpkin juice.

"You sure?" I asked, stealing the goblet out of her hands.

"Positive. Nothing at all. I can't be excited for class without you jumping down my throat? And give me back my juice!"

I waved the goblet tauntingly in front of her face. She made a mad swipe for it but missed. I laughed as she scowled.

"Where's Mary? You're too mean this morning," she said, giving me a nasty look. Her eyes were not moving from her drink in my hands.

"She's probably still in bed. You know her, probably stalking Professor Morningside into the late hours of the night."

Alice clearly wasn't listening. "Give it back you git!" she exclaimed, lunging for her glass.

"No. Why are you so excited about Herbology?"

Alice's scowl deepened. "Who said I was excited about Herbology? I'm not excited about Herbology. Herbology is boring. Very boring. Such a stupid class. Mary thought so too, that's why she dropped it."

I sighed. "Mary dropped Herbology because she flunked out and preferred to gaze at the oh-so-dreamy dark and brooding Professor Ashtiersen for a whole period instead. I repeat, why are you so keen on shrubs all of a sudden?"

"_I do not like Herbology! I have no special interest in plants of any kind, and if you do not give me back that glass I will curse you to smithereens!" _she yelled.

"Wow Alice," I whispered. "I think if you screamed just a tad louder Dumbledore might hear you up in his office. Go on, then."

Alice harrumphed and glared at all of the students that had swivelled in their seats to observe the commotion.

"So, this newfound interest in Herbology..." I drifted off.

"For Merlin's sake, Lily," Alice said exasperatedly, giving a sharp eye to a particularly small first year who almost fell off his seat in his haste to shuffle away from her, "I have not developed an interest in Herbology! You are totally mental."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," I quoted, grinning at her.

Alice looked at me blankly.

"Muggle playwright," I explained exasperatedly. "If you're denying it so vehemently, there must be something going on," I clarified triumphantly.

"Wha-no!" Alice said, attempting to take her pumpkin juice back.

"What is it?" I asked her, using my greater height to my advantage and holding the goblet up over my head and out of Alice's reach. "Or _who_ is it?" I rephrased wickedly.

Alice huffed out a breath in annoyance. "Fine, Lily, use your freakishly long arms against me. See if I care."

"They are not fr-" I spluttered, but before I could finish the goblet was suddenly swept from my grasp. "What the hell-" I started, looking for the pumpkin juice thief.

"Thanks, Evans," I heard Potter say jovially from behind me as he took a big sip.

I whipped my head around to frown at him.

"Very thoughtful," he said, tipping the glass to me in a toast.

"You know that's not for you and that's not mine," I said, nodding my head at Alice who was looking immensely relieved now that I was free of leverage material.

"Sure," he said, grinning. "If it was, I'd have been jinxed all the way to the forbidden forest before I finished this sentence."

Alice nodded sagaciously. "James is right, Lily," she said, giving me a knowing expression.

Shut it, Alice. No comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much. And I wouldn't overreact like that and curse him as far as the forbidden forest; the greenhouses maybe, but not the forbidden forest. Definitely not.

"Anyway, I'll leave you ladies," said Potter, giving us a small wave. He whipped out his wand and conjured an identical goblet to the one he was holding. Plucking it out of midair, he handed it back to me. "Your drink, milady," he said, bowing slightly as he moved on to sit with his mates further down the table.

"Shut it, Alice," I muttered aloud, deliberately ignoring her ridiculously loud wheezes of laughter beside me. "It wasn't that funny."

"Sure it was," said Alice once she had finished gasping for air. "Your face and his antics... fabulous entertainment."

Merlin, my mate is mental.

Completely over her giggles, but slightly breathless nonetheless, Alice started to reach for the goblet of pumpkin juice Potter had just made.

Quickly I claimed it as mine and took a sip. Reaching over the table, I poured her another with one hand while the other was still raised to my lips.

She smirked with another one of her awful knowing expressions.

I scowled.

"You fancy him, admit it!" demanded Alice.

"I do not. You're delusional."

"Mark my words, I'm going to be saying, 'I told you so,' before the year's through..."

"Mail's here," I said, looking up. Hundreds of owls had just flown through the large windows and were busy searching for their respective students.

She glanced toward the ceiling as well.

"Lily, I think your correspondent wrote to you already!" Alice cried suddenly, grabbing my arm.

"Yours too," I said, chuckling as Alice's eyes keenly followed the path of one of the grey owls just as it landed on her plate, flattening her muffin.

"Oi!" she said in protest, poking sadly at the crumbling remains of her breakfast. Once she had realized that it was ruined beyond repair, she began untying the tightly rolled piece of parchment that was attached to her owl's leg, muttering darkly the whole time.

Luckily for me my owl didn't decide to capriciously squish his talons inside my eggs, instead he landed considerately on my left arm. With my other hand I untied the scroll and then offered him a piece of my toast. He snapped off a corner and captured it his beak before flying off, presumably to the owlery.

I eagerly unfurled the scroll and began to read.

My eyes eagerly scanned the opening lines before finally settling on, _"Maybe I should start off with my likes and dislikes? I love Quidditch..."_

I read through the letter, smiling slightly. My correspondent wasn't too awful, in fact he – I assumed the writer was a bloke because of the reverence for all things Quidditch and the fact that one of his mates has awful handwriting – seemed downright nice, and was even funny in places.

"Alice?" I asked tentatively, "How's your letter?"

"Fine," she said quickly, shoving it out of sight before I could scan it over her shoulder. She turned to look at me. "How's yours?"

"Great," I said, smoothing it out on the table. "Doesn't seem like some blood obsessed nutter."

Alice smiled. "Yeah. I think mine's pureblood, though."

"Bloke or girl?"

"Bloke," Alice shrugged. "Though I really can't be sure. How about you?"

I took a bite of my forgotten eggs, swallowed, and told her, "Bloke for sure." I glanced at my watch. "Come on, we'd better get to class."

"Wait," Alice said as I was gathering my things, "I have to use the loo. Go on without me."

I sighed. "Fine, but please don't leave me alone with Potter again!" I called after her retreating back.

"Can't make any promises, Lils!"

I groaned and made my way over to the greenhouses alone. It was a crisp September morning, the sky was clear and a few of trees had already started to lose their leaves. I was halfway across the grounds when I heard voices approach from behind.

"Hi Lily!" someone called genially.

I turned. "Hello Remus," I smiled as I caught sight of him.

He was with his three friends, obviously. Black was busy talking with Pettigrew, and Potter was staring at me with wide eyes. Thankfully, Remus had clapped his hand over Potter's mouth, giving him warning glances every so often.

"Evans!" Black shouted once he noticed my presence, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Outrageous, right?" I said sarcastically. "It's not like I don't see you every Thursday morning for this same class."

Black was spared from making some witty remark by Potter's greeting of, "How goes it, Evans?"

I sent a warning glance at Remus who looked back apologetically at me. I noticed he was ruefully rubbing his hand that had previously covered Potter's mouth on his robes.

Um, ew.

"Er, good, I guess," I told Potter.

He looked delighted that I had even responded. "Great!"

Remus shot Potter a glare, but he ignored it. Instead he asked, "Do you like Herbology, Evans?"

"Sure. I mean, I don't like it as much as Charms or Potions but it's alright," I said a bit awkwardly. What plan does this bloke have up his sleeve?

"Me too. There are subjects I like more, but all the exotic and/or dangerous plants are always fascinating. You like Potions, you said? You and old Slughorn seem to be best pals, from what I've seen," observed Potter.

I laughed slightly. "That's what he thinks."

Potter nodded with a knowing expression. "I take it you don't fancy being his pal too much?"

I shook my head. "Naw, he goes on and on about how he's surprised I'm Muggleborn. Gets a bit grating on the ears after a while. Weren't you in the Slug Club for a while?"

He sighed happily. "Yeah. Good times."

"Weren't you in it for about six days first year?"

"Yep. Slughorn kicked me out after I set off a bunch of Filibuster's fireworks inside his favourite cauldron, splashed Alert Elixir all over the dungeon. Couple of the smaller first years were literally bouncing off the walls. My first detention," finished Potter, looking nostalgic.

"I remember that. I think I spent the entire period bouncing up and down in my seat trying to fly," I marvelled.

Potter laughed.

"So Slughorn got rid of you after that?" I asked.

"I think so. He stopped sending me those invitations at any rate."

We entered the greenhouses, still talking. He was being so affable that I didn't even object when he took the seat across from mine.

Potter's eyes suddenly widened as he sat down. "How's Em? I almost forgot about her."

"Emmeline?" I was surprised he remembered. I had even forgotten. "She's good, I think. I mean, she was okay as of midnight last night when I checked on her."

"Good." Potter looked relieved. "I spoke to Dumbledore, and he said he's handle it accordingly."

I nodded.

"Attention class!" Professor Sprout called to the greenhouse at large.

I quickly whipped my head around, looking for Alice. I soon spotted her sitting a little further down the long bench, next to Frank Longbottom.

Alice is _so_ dead.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Evans," a voice said from my right.

I turned to look at him. "Seems that way, Potter." I shrugged.

"Disappointed?" he asked casually, but I could tell he was keen on my answer.

"Yes," I said truthfully. "But I could do a lot worse," I grimaced. "In comparison you're not too bad."

Potter accepted that. Smiling slightly, he reached for a trowel lying next to him on the table. "Do you have any idea what we're supposed to be doing?" He looked at me blankly.

I rolled my eyes. "You could listen for a change," I told him, staring pointedly at Sprout, who was currently giving us directions.

"Why should I do that?" Potter said, looking affronted. "Makes life dull. Experiment!"

"Not when you're my partner, you don't," I hissed.

Potter looked at me askance. "You need to live a little, Evans. Anyway, will you pass the tweezers?"

"Why?"

"We need to take out the seeds of this kleptimus carnation."

That was unexpected. "You paid attention to Sprout?" I asked in wonder.

"Sure. I was just yanking your wand before," Potter said while poking the plant cautiously with the trowel. "Multitasking: the greatest invention since sliced pumpkins."

"Watch out," I warned.

"For what?" Potter said, looking at me in surprise. "Seems harmless enough..."

"For that," I said shortly, pointing at his wrist.

"Oi!" Potter said, jumping up from his seat while trying to jerk his hand out of the plant's grip. It had sneakily wound itself up his forearm, completely covering his shiny watch.

"Oh and I forgot to tell you all," Sprout called after many students went through similar reaction to Potter's. "Take off all your valuables, these kleptimus carnations will steal them off you if you're not too careful," she chuckled and went back to walking around the class, "Bit like the plant version of nifflers, if you catch my drift. I've noticed this batch has a certain attraction to gold, so ladies beware of your earrings and bracelets."

"Bloody hell, couldn't have said that five seconds earlier?" Potter grumbled, still trying to wrest out of the plant's grip.

"Here," I said, picking up a pair of innocent pruning shears, "Let me." I brandished the weapon, and the plant seemed to have sensed danger because it retreated to its normal position and remained quite still.

"Smart one, that," Potter said, indicating the now innocent looking potted plant. "Knew what was good for it." He gave it a good glare.

I smiled. "I don't think it understands English."

"So? Can't hurt, can it?"

"Only my opinion concerning your sanity."

Potter snorted. "Nice one, Evans. I knew I could always count on you to question my mental capacity."

"You had any in the first place?"

"Very funny."

"You know Potter, this isn't so bad." Ugh. That totally wasn't what I meant to say. Shit. It just slipped out!

"What? Herbology? Yeah, you said you didn't mind it so much before..."

"No, I mean, talking with you." To my absolute horror, I felt a blush bloom across my cheeks. Damn redhead, freckled genes. "Being partnered with you, it's not that disappointing."

Potter beamed at my compliment. "Evans will you-" he broke off. He looked a bit troubled for a moment, and then abruptly started picking off some of the small yellow seeds of our kleptimus carnation.

"Will I what?" I asked, confused by his odd behaviour.

He shook his head and sighed. "I was going to ask if you would go out with me."

My appreciation for his company abruptly evaporated. I glared.

"But," he said hurriedly, looking at me seriously, "I take it back. Look, Evans," he said, nervously running his hand through his hair, "Will you believe that I'm trying to annoy you less?"

I let my gaze rest on him for a long moment. I nodded.

Relieved, he continued, "I'm _attempting_ to refrain from asking you out or harassing you, but will you allow me one or two mistakes? Old habits are hard to break." He wore an apologetic expression.

I paused. I figured this could go either way. I could refuse, and Potter would undoubtedly continue annoy me or I could agree, and Potter could gradually stop annoying me, or... he could just continue to annoy me anyway. Still, only the latter has the 'no irritation' possibility.

"Sure, Potter," I said, "As long as you remain, er, civil and not too friendly I think we can get along peacefully."

He nodded.

We sat there for a long moment in silence, both of us working on our shared plant. We had gathered about half a pint worth of seeds when we had to switch for another carnation.

"Evans," Potter said as he set the new plant in front of us, "I think we should settle our agreement."

"How?" I looked at him suspiciously.

"With a handshake," he said obviously.

"Oh." And here I was thinking, kisses, monetary transitions, illegal promises... a handshake seemed rather appealing actually.

He held out his hand and I hesitantly shook it, feeling a bit foolish. Here I was, in the middle of the greenhouse, hands coated with a fine layer of yellow dust and shaking hands with a person against whom I notoriously harboured a deep hatred.

"So I, James Harold Potter, promise to try to my best attempt to stop irritating Lily Evans to the best of my ability," he said pompously with a wide grin.

Feeling very idiotic right about now, I said, "I, Lily Evangeline Evans promise to let aforementioned James Harold Potter have minimal mistakes if he puts in his best effort to fulfil his also aforementioned promise."

Potter pumped my hand up and down. "Nicely stated, Evans," he said admiringly. "Evangeline?" he questioned, looking at me out of the corner of his eye as he went back to deseeding the plant.

"No comment."

"Really, Evans? I was just going to say it's a pretty name." He smirked.

"Shut it, Potter."

"Merlin, can't you take a compliment? The name is still pleasant on the ears, nonetheless."

I glanced sideways at Alice. She had been watching us intently from her position next to Frank, but quickly averted her gaze once I looked at her.

Potter laughed. "She's been staring at us for the past ten minutes," he whispered.

I sighed. "Fantastic."

"I know, right? I love being the centre of attention."

I scowled. "I know."

Potter seemed unfazed by my less than pleasant mood. "Cheer up, Evans! We just embarked upon a whole new phase of our relationship."

Before I could protest at his liberal use of the word 'relationship' he continued on, "one hopefully with less screaming, cursing and general mayhem. Not that I don't love a bit of mayhem, you understand," Potter said, nodding his head slowly, "But it seems rather out of my best interest if I want to remain true to my promise and if I want to live to see tomorrow."

"To right it does," I muttered.

Potter laughed, this time louder than before.

We continued to chat amiably for the rest of the period. Like I had already begun to suspect, Potter could be surprisingly engaging if he wasn't asking me out every other sentence.

"Well, nice talking to you Potter," I said as I gathered my things. "Remember we have a meeting after dinner, around eight."

His eyes widened. "Right. Where should I meet you?"

"Head's Common Room?" I suggested. "I think that's what it's for. I know we haven't used it much this year."

Recognition dawned on his face. "That room off the statue of the statue of Glinda the Good?"

"That's the one."

"It's a date then, Evans," Potter said without thinking.

He didn't even wait for my protest, but backtracked immediately. A little red about the face, Potter held his hands up in apology. "Sorry. Not a date, a Heads meeting. A purely platonic, non-romantic and probably boring Heads meeting. I'll even give you a ten metre radius if you want."

I smiled. "That won't be necessary."

He grinned. "Good. I'd have to shout to be heard, and you've told me how much my voice irritates you. Wouldn't want that at all, now would we?"

"Nope," I shook my head, "As much as I worry for my personal safety when around you, I think I'll take my chances tonight."

"That's it Evans! Be daring! Be a Gryffindor! See you later!" Potter called as he joined his mates in leaving the classroom.

"Now, that wasn't too bad, was it?" A sly voice piped up from my left.

I shook my head slowly.

"You two looked like you were having fun. At least, I saw no curses flying and Potter didn't have to call in his mates for backup."

I could hear the smugness oozing from each of her words. "How was Frank?" I asked as I clambered over the bench to face her.

Alice immediately turned a magnificent shade of red. "Good." Quick as a flash, she changed the subject. "You and James are finally getting on, then?"

I rolled my eyes. "I hate him a bit less, if that's what you're asking. He promised to not ask me out anymore at least."

Alice looked slightly put out. "Really? And you accepted?"

"Did you expect anything different?"

"I suppose not," Alice sighed. "Come on then, I think we have some class now."

"That would be Charms."

"Let's go with that."

"Whatever you say, Alice."


	6. In which J passes notes with L

**A/N: I plan on updating this fic every two weeks, for all you kind readers who actually await my updates. I love you guys.**

* * *

I left Evans practically buoyant in jubilation. Another decent conversation to add! That made a grand total of... damn. Two.

I met up with Sirius, Remus and Peter outside the greenhouses just as Herbology ended.

"Hey Prongs," said Sirius immediately after he spotted me. "How's our favourite fiery redhead doing these days? I saw you two getting cosy over your bush thing. You know, nothing spells romance like an atmosphere of potentially dangerous plants and shrubs."

"Heavily barbed flora and ferns do seem the paragon of romance to me too, now that I think about it," joined in Remus, smiling at the look of annoyance on my face.

"Although," Sirius paused, evidently thinking of what to say next, "the bottom of the lake comes awfully close..."

"Ah," said Remus, nodding his head slowly, "I do believe you're right, Padfoot."

"Is he ever not?" Peter said, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, Wormtail!" shouted Sirius graciously, throwing Pete a wide smile.

"Bugger off, you lot. And she's good, Padfoot, on the off chance that your question was not sarcastic," I said irritably. My mates were totally killing my good mood.

"I fear it was," Remus said lightly from my other side.

"Ah, Prongs," bemoaned Sirius despondently, "You have lost your ability to detect simple sarcasm. Clearly your Evans obsession has reduced your working mental capacity to the size of a snitch."

"No wait, I think it was that size before," cut in Remus.

"You're right! You're right!" Sirius declared, "Must now be the size of a pea. At least, I hope you can catch those metaphors that we've been tossing around. If you want, we can repeat them for Wormtail's benefit too."

"HEY!" said Peter loudly in protest.

I shook my head slowly at them. "Not necessary, although I do think that dear Padfoot here was showing signs of mental deterioration when he asked the common room at large whether or not it was true that _dogs could smell fear_."

"It was a legitimate question!" barked Sirius defensively as we all laughed.

"Oh yeah?" I raised my eyebrows.

"How?" asked Remus interestedly.

"Well," blustered Sirius, "For Care of Magical Creatures, you know..."

He then proceeded to go on a long rant, culminating in the argument that, despite what us Marauders claimed otherwise, Sirius was indeed intelligent to some degree.

Needless to say, he got no support from our ends.

"I hate you all!" burst out Sirius as we walked into the Charms classroom. "Alice?" he called to the brunette in the front row off to the far left sitting next to Evans. "Be my best mate? I need a new one that isn't a total prat!"

"Why sure, Sirius!" she called, turning around in her seat. "May I ask why your mates are being so crappy today?"

"They're picking on me," wailed Sirius as he walked over to where she was sitting. He sat down in front of the desk right behind them.

Evans whipped her head around to look at him incredulously. "Are you _five_?" she asked him seriously.

"He'll deny it, but I think his brain atrophied at around seven, actually," I said as I made my way over to stand next to Evans's desk.

She nodded understandingly.

"Shut it, Prongs," Sirius retorted without looking at me. "I am a _man_. Alice, don't believe that wanker over there. I'm seventeen, and I'm full grown."

I rolled my eyes; Evans wore a dubious expression.

"In more ways than one," Sirius continued suggestively.

Alice gave a loud shout of laughter. Evans looked like she was going to hurl.

Quickly I conjured a paper bag and placed it underneath her chair. "In case you vomit. You sure look green," I told her. "Hell, I'll join you in a few seconds, if he keeps talking like that, mark my words," I promised.

She still wore a totally revolted expression. "Thanks Potter."

"No problem, Evans."

Sirius threw his hands in the air dramatically. "You see what I have to go through, Alice? No one can take a joke these days!"

Alice sighed sympathetically. "I know."

By now the class had pretty much started and I saw Flitwick clamber on top of his usual pile of books.

Quickly, I darted around and sat next to Sirius, behind Evans.

It was ten minutes into class when something hit me in the forehead.

"What the..." I muttered as I inspected the offending projectile. It was a piece of paper torn off from the side of the bag I had placed beside Evans's chair. Intrigued, I opened it.

_Don't do anything, Potter_

Quickly I scribbled back below her message, **I had no intention of doing so**

_As if. I just wanted to remind you of our little treaty. No funny business in my favourite class_

**Funny business? ****I'd be open to some funny business in another classroom, preferably an empty one****. **Quickly I crossed out my most recent sentence. Evans would not appreciate that at all. Instead, I wrote, **What funny business do you refer to?**

_You know exactly what I mean. No hexing your mates, no pranks, no nothing. PS thanks for trying to protect my mind from those images. Although, your one strikethrough still means that I could still read every single word._

**Um, sorry?**

_Apology accepted_

I couldn't help joking with her a little. It was just so easy... **So what if I do something? You've got Flitwick wrapped around your pretty little finger anyway**

_You wouldn't_

**Is that a threat?**

_No. A warning._

**A warning of what, exactly?**

_That the professors will only be able to find pieces of you scattered across the grounds if you so much as blink one too many times in this class._

**I'm sitting behind you**

_I know that. So what?_

**How would you possibly know if I blink too much? **

_Merlin, Potter... all you Marauders take things way to literally._

**I could have a cold. I could have dry eyes... I could silently be sneezing a lot. OR I could be blinking away the tears that appeared at the prospect of having my entrails dragged all over the castle.**

_You know when you put it like that, it makes it sounds so much more charming._

**Well, Charms does have that affect on things... makes them charming and all.**

_That's really not funny_

**Yet you're giggling away**

_At your complete ineptitude_

**Oh. That makes more sense. You're really not the giggling type.**

_Classic case of Ockham's razor_

**What?**

_Muggle thing_

**Go on**

_You really want to know?_

**You've got me all interested. Just because it's Muggle doesn't mean it's not worth my time.**

_The simplest answer is generally the correct one._

**Rubbish**

_It's not rubbish at all_

**Sure is. I can think of a dozen times when that's not true.**

_Oh yeah?_

**Like when Sirius couldn't find a book of his. We all thought he just lost it in the sometimes mythic and always dangerous void that is the space underneath his bed. We sent down expeditions of charmed paperclips and coat hangers to go retrieve it. No luck for weeks. Sirius almost gave up hope. Peter was going spare. Remus, the real book lover among us, was ready to go retrieve it himself, the brave, brave soul. However, to our extreme bewilderment, the book turned up suddenly a month later. Can you believe it, Evans? It was up a tree!**

_Black can read?_

**That's all you take away from my fabulously written and creatively drawn out story? 'Sirius can read'? Disregarding the fact that it is a valid question, of course**

_From what I've seen, even a tree can appreciate a book more than Black ever could_

**It was the Whomping Willow. We found it being juggled by its branches.**

I heard Evans give a small snort of laughter. Soon after, another note found its way over to my desk.

_I guess not then._

**You got that right**

Sirius nudged me hard in the ribs. "Knock it off, I think Flitwick is getting suspicious," he muttered quietly.

Quickly I took out a blank piece of parchment and began copying down everything on the board that I'd missed while passing notes to Evans. I'd just figure out what it meant later and maybe have Remus explain it to me if I really didn't get it.

The class was almost over anyway. Five minutes later Flitwick collected our homework from the previous night and let us all go.

"How'd your secret note passing go then, Prongs?" asked Sirius as we walked to the door.

"Alright," I said, shrugging. "She didn't turn around and curse me, at least."

Sirius gave me a sly grin. "From what I read, she didn't seem angry at all."

"You read them?"

"Course," scoffed Sirius, "What else would I do? Listen to Flitwick?" He looked outraged at the very suggestion.

"You do know," Remus's voice said mildly from behind us as we walked down the corridor, "that paying attention to the professor is the recommended course of action?"

"Your point?"

A beat.

"Good point," Peter said, having just caught up with us.

"I'm hungry," I complained as we made our way from the Charms corridor down to the Great Hall.

Everyone else made noises of agreement.

"Merlin, is that all you people can talk about?" a female voice said lightly from behind us.

"What do you mean 'you people'?" bristled Sirius. "I take offense."

"Fine. Blokes," clarified Alice, rolling her eyes.

"Just about," he said, glancing at the speaker. "That, breaking rules and witty comebacks."

"I see," Alice said slowly, Evans following silently by her side.

"We're pretty simple creatures. Don't you know? Men have only four emotions," reported Sirius in a business-like voice. "Happy, sad, mad, and hungry. You girls on the other hand, have a whole bloody spectrum for us poor blokes to figure out." He smiled ruefully.

Alice laughed.

Evans looked to the rest of us for confirmation; we all sheepishly nodded or shrugged in assent.

"You can't honestly say that you all only have three emotions?" she asked curiously.

"Didn't you hear me, Evans?" Sirius said exasperatedly. "_Four_ emotions."

"No, I meant three," she retorted. "Unlike what most blokes apparently seem to think, 'hungry' is _not_ nor ever will be, an emotion."

"I don't know about that, Lily," Remus said in that sensible voice of his.

"Even you, Remus?" Evans said sadly.

He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Sirius gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "Even Moony here agrees. No way you can win this, Evans."

"Honestly, based on the amount of time we go around feeling hungry, it might as well be," placated Remus.

"I have a human encyclopaedia on my side," continued Sirius. "What about you?"

"Common knowledge? An accurate definition of the word 'emotion'? A full spectrum of feelings?" Evans added the last one sardonically, "Take your pick, Black."

"Still," insisted Sirius, "It's _Moony,_ after all."

Remus chuckled quietly. "Thanks, Padfoot."

"No problem."

"You know how much I love being compared to a heavy, dull, reference book," continued Remus sarcastically.

"See? No one can say I don't know my mates," said Sirius proudly.

"One which, I may add, has become your favourite pillow in History of Magic," inserted Remus.

Alice looked extremely intrigued. "Why in Merlin's name would you carry around an encyclopaedia around with you?"

"Do you actually read it?" asked Evans, green eyes wide in shock.

"He likes looking up big words and then impressing us when he uses them later in sentences," Remus said before Sirius could respond.

"It usually ends badly," Peter cut in.

Sirius looked incensed. "For the crosswor-"

"Backfires and makes him sound stupider instead of smarter," I said quickly, giving Sirius a pitying smile. "Never uses them in the right context, see?"

Evans laughed. "Now by that, I'm not surprised."

We entered the Great Hall. Apparently we were let out of class early or, unbeknownst to us, made an alarmingly quick trip from the Charms corridor. Either way, we were some of the first people there.

I inwardly rejoiced once I realized that Evans and Alice were forced to either sit with us, or they would be left to make conversation with a group of tetchy fifth years. We all sat down near the end of the table, and it was just as Sirius's stomach gave a particularly loud rumble that the food magically appeared on the plates in front of us.

"Brilliant," Sirius said as he reached for a chicken leg.

"So," started Alice after we had all made a mad dash for the poultry after Sirius, "Have you done your letters yet?"

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "Yesterday I forced the rest of them to write their first ones."

"Get any replies?"

"I did, and James too. I didn't notice if the rest of them got any." Remus jerked his head at the remaining two Marauders.

Sirius nodded in consent; Peter gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Any idea who yours is?" asked Alice interestedly.

Remus paused before answering thoughtfully, "I can't be sure, but I think my letter is from a Hufflepuff, just based on process of elimination. They didn't mention their studies or criticise the goals of the project, so that rules out Ravenclaw and Slytherin - but this is all stereotyping, of course."

Evans was nodding along thoughtfully. "Girl?"

"Nope, bloke, I think," said Remus before he took a huge bite out of his steak sandwich.

"James?" Alice asked.

"Girl, probably Ravenclaw. Went on and on about the teachers." I shrugged. "At least not a Slytherin, and that's what counts, yeah?"

Alice smiled ruefully. "Indeed." She sighed heavily.

"How about you Alice?" Sirius asked, making an effort to change the direction of the conversation. I could tell that he was put out with all the talk of Slytherin house. "Anyone worth getting to know?"

To our extreme amusement, Alice started blushing something fierce. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?" She quickly threw all her efforts into finishing her soup as loudly as possible.

Sirius laughed, noticing her reddening cheeks. "Oh yeah? There's more to this!"

"Nope. Nothing, at all. What gives you that idea?"

"Come on," wheedled Sirius, "You know you want to tell us, Alice."

Evans rolled her eyes.

I, however, was just as interested in Sirius. "What's up Alice?" I asked, leaning over my plate of food to get a better look at her brilliantly red face.

She didn't respond.

"You can tell us," another voice persuaded gently.

I whipped my head around. Evans had joined in the fun!

Oh this is going to be good. If she's been keeping this from her best mate, then this is _big_.

"That's it," started Alice defiantly, "absolutely nothing is happening. I'm serious-"

I lunged for my best mate across the table next to Alice.

He was grinning from ear to ear. "No you're not Sirius, I-"

Too late.

"-am!"

Remus groaned. Peter buried his head in his hands in frustration. I dropped my raised arms and chucked a chicken leg at his head instead, which he unluckily dodged.

Evans laughed.

I looked at her incredulously. "You actually find that funny?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Hell no," she said flatly, sobering up immediately at my dire accusation.

Sirius looked beyond devastated.

Merlin knows if Sirius caught on that _anyone... anywhere_ actually found that amusing in any way shape or form he would be unbearable. Er, even more than he usually was, at least.

"It's just," explained Evans, "you all. You're funny," she said simply and with that, she went back to her meal, leaving me totally dumbfounded.

That whole dumbfounded-ness quickly morphed into happy daydreams.

"Merlin, Potter, it was just a compliment!" a voice jerked me violently out of my thoughts a moment later.

What?

"I really shouldn't have said anything," continued Evans, shaking her head slowly while my mates were laughing. "Do I even want to know what went on in your head during the past five minutes?"

Well. She jerked me out of my thoughts after _several_ moments then, I amended.

"Probably not," Sirius said gravely. "He was probably dreaming of you two running off, marrying, and having many black haired, green eyed, Potter babies running around his house at Godric's Hollow."

Everyone laughed. Except Evans, that is. She looked rather like she had done after Sirius made that comment in Charms.

"Wha-?" I started, "No!" I denied vehemently.

Everyone just proceeded to laugh harder. By now Evans looked almost murderous.

No need to tell Sirius that the whole marriage part of his guess was not that far off. Well, not the ceremony, but a wedding night. And, er, similar situations to that effect certainly meandered into my thoughts once or twice. All types of situations which would result in messy raven haired, sparkling emerald eyed children frolicking about my front garden in Godric's Hollow. But that part didn't really come up until Sirius mentioned it.

Before, it was mostly the shagging that I was thinking about. Because really, compliments lead to acquaintanceship, which leads to friendship, which leads to a romantic relationship; ergo, sex was simply the next logical step.

That and I was a seventeen-year-old boy. Please. What did anyone really expect? Evans should just be glad that my mind didn't go immediately from compliments to sex, that being entirely unrealistic. And, um, immoral, of course, as Evans would probably admonish.

"Well," said Remus quickly, glancing at Evans, who looked like she was ready to commit some random act of violence, and Sirius, who was close to falling off the bench, he was laughing so hard, "passing over James," he paused, scrambling for some topic to talk about.

"How about those Montrose Magpies?" Peter cried wildly.

Remus shot him a grateful look.

"No," said Sirius slowly, "Let's get back to Alice."

"I hear they're doing quite well, Peter, fourth in the league so far!" Alice said, her a voice a bit on the shrill side.

"So... what's going on with your letter?" pressed Sirius.

Alice shook her head resolutely and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're just making it worse," I advised. "He'll go on for hours. The old dog is remarkably stubborn."

Remus gave a small chuckle. Clearly he was remembering our escapades from last night.

Sirius grinned, thinking of last night too. "Better give up now, Greengrass. Spit it out," he demanded.

Alice gave a long suffering sigh. She threw Evans a pleading sort of look.

"And now you see why I didn't want to sit here," Evans muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Fine," Alice huffed, "I think Frank Longbottom wrote my letter. Are you happy now?" She glared at Sirius pointedly.

"Yes," he said immediately. "You and Frank, huh? He's an alright bloke."

Alice didn't react.

"But really? A Hufflepuff?"

Alice threw him a look. "He's a perfectly good person!"

"But still..."

"He's a prefect!"

"That is _far_ from a recommendation in my book," commented Sirius idly as he swished around the pumpkin juice in his goblet. He glanced up to give Remus and me a sort of apologetic glance.

We both shrugged.

"That's funny," said Alice shrewdly, "I never pegged you for a gossip, Sirius."

"Naw, but they make good pickup lines."

"How so?" Alice asked curiously.

Sirius shrugged. "Easy conversation starter."

I spared a glance over in the direction of Evans. At Alice's news she looked ecstatic. All anger at me suddenly forgotten, she was grinning at Alice who was deliberately ignoring her as she talked with Sirius. "Wait!" Evans exclaimed excitedly once the conversation slowed, "You do fancy him! I knew it!"

"No," denied Alice hopelessly.

"You do!"

"Nuh uh. I'll only admit it when _you_ admit that I'm right about who _you_ fancy," she said resolutely.

"I won't," Evans supplied instantly. "Because you're flat out wrong. Now, you admitting you fancy Frank is expected because I know I am right. But on the other account, you're just wrong. So wrong, even this lot won't find it funny." She jerked her head at us Marauders.

"What won't we find funny?" I asked, very interested in the bloke Evans might fancy.

"That Lil-" began Alice, but Evans cut her off.

"Never you mind, Potter," she said quickly. She shot Alice a look that clearly said _'SHUT UP' _in the most blatant way possible.

Alice did as she was telepathically told; her mouth snapped shut immediately.

"Who do you fancy, Evans?" Sirius asked. Probably for my benefit.

What am I thinking? Probably for more pickup lines.

"Would you look at the time?" said Evans sharply as she got up. She didn't even look at her watch. "I need to hit the library before class. Goodbye!"

"Evans!" Sirius called, and when she didn't turn around he rounded on Alice. "Who does she fancy?" he demanded.

Alice immediately got on the defensive. "I'm not telling. She's my mate, I'll respect her privacy when she's not around."

"Come on, put my mate Prongs out of his misery," persuaded Sirus.

"No way."

"Do you like seeing him in such a miserable state?"

I instantly adopted a grieving expression appropriate at a graveside.

Alice narrowed her eyes.

"At least, pity poor Padfoot who has to live with such a depressing sod for twelve months of the year," Sirius bemoaned, upping the dramatics.

"You got your own place last summer, Padfoot," observed Remus casually as he inspected a carrot.

"Not relevant," Sirius said instantly without looking at Remus.

"Give up, Sirius," Alice advised.

"But-"

"Please Alice," I started.

"No," she cut us both off. "Look, truthfully I don't know who she fancies."

We all gaped at her.

"But," I started, "Evans said..."

Alice smiled ruefully. "Yeah I know. I was just joking with her."

"So you're saying that Evans might fancy anyone in the whole castle and you wouldn't know about it?" asked Sirius, outraged.

"I mean, I'd _like _to think that she'd tell me, but that's the general gist of it, yeah," Alice commented. "My dear mate Lily, who just fled the scene as if a raging manticore was on her heels, is very secretive about her feelings."

I made a disbelieving sound. Really, she had never been very secretive about her feelings when it came to _me._

Alice threw me a sympathetic look, "Well, she's very secretive about who she fancies, at least," she amended.

"Fantastic," I muttered, picking morosely at the remains of chicken on my plate.

"Cheer up, Prongs," Peter said, reaching over me for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "She may fancy you, and maybe she just is too secretive to tell." I caught a glimpse of his face before he hid it behind his goblet of pumpkin juice; based on his worried expression he didn't look like he believed what he was saying at all.

Thanks for the gesture at any rate, Wormtail.

Sirius, Remus and Alice all made dubious noises, which I studiously chose to ignore. Sod it all, I liked Peter's analysis of events!

Grabbing a biscuit, I listened intently as Remus interjected, "Be careful you don't get too overconfident with that attitude." He shot a warning glance at Peter, "Although it may happen, Prongs," Remus made a face – clearly he was also a nonbeliever! – and started fiddling with his napkin, "in the, um, distant future-"

I pretended he just had a momentary lapse in judgement. That he had simply interchanged one word for another and meant 'near' as in 'near future,' because Moony, my practical and intelligent mate Moony, would _never_ insinuate that Evans would only fall for me after a long period of time. I mean, she's resisted my charming self for coming on three years now; she has to crack sometimeor another. Preferably that sometime wouldn't be when we're both ninety; then all my sex fantasies would take a very wrong and potentially painful turn if I still expected Evans to get into some of those positions. They require a certain degree of flexibility, after all. Plus it'd be a total turn off if we're both all old and wrinkly. I shudder at the thought. Merlin, I don't need those mental images!

"- I wouldn't bet on it," Remus finished, looking at me warily. He was probably wondering why I look like I'm on the verge of dry heaving. Well, I wasn't going to share. It'd just be plain cruel to inflict this kind of pain on one's good mate. However, Snivellus might... No.

Bad James. Stupid James! No thoughts of what Snivellus might or might not like. That was none of your business; especially since Evans didn't consider it any of your business either.

But the practicality of such a statement would be very difficult no matter what Evans thought. How would I bring it up anyway? Just up and shout down the corridor, 'Hey Snivellus, I still want to get all up on Evans even if we're both old and wrinkly!'?

I was not even going to dignify that scenario with any possible outcomes. They were just all too horrendous.

* * *

**A/N: I got a whopping 16 reviews last time! You guys are truly awesome; thanks so much if I haven't already said so in a PM to all you wonderful people**

**Also, I adore anonymous reviews just as much as signed ones!**


	7. In which L hates J

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the one raking in the pounds, not me.**

* * *

I cracked open my transfiguration textbook and stared at the page without reading a word.

Looking back on it, fleeing the scene probably wasn't the most prudent way of handling the situation.

Bugger.

Leaving Alice alone with the Marauders was a _bad_ idea. Such a bad idea!

I sighed and glanced hopelessly at my book again. There was no way I was going to concentrate on schoolwork when my best mate could be potentially ruining the breakthrough truce I just made earlier this morning.

She could be telling Potter right now that I fancy him! Merlin help her if she did, because I didn't think even Dumbledore could locate all her body parts from out of the Great Lake when I'm through with her.

She was so dead. _I was_ so dead... if Potter was worse enough without encouragement. If he got it in his head that I actually do fancy him (which I so do _not_) he would be absolutely intolerable.

Ugh. Just Ugh.

And we were making so much progress! (Alright he did almost ask me out, and then slid in some sexual innuendo in that one note in Charms, and then had a very perverted daydream, judging from his euphoric expression all within the space of three hours.)

Oh. Not so much progress, then.

On the upside, today's Thursday. He deviated from the pattern, at any rate.

What the hell? How is that an upside? This just means he's more unpredictable.

_I hate him. I hate Potter. I hate Potter. I hate Pott-_

"Hey Lily!"

I turned around and saw Mary plop herself down in a seat next to me. Her dirty blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her neon yellow hair band was slipping down her forehead.

"Hi!" I said brightly. Ah! Mary Macdonald, my saviour to save me from thinking about Potter.

"What's up?"

"Nothing much. Why are you in the library?" I asked, flipping to a random page in my textbook.

Mary grimaced. "Skipping lunch to work on Vector's problem set."

"When's it due?"

Mary fixed her hair and scratched her head idly. "Next period," she muttered without looking at me.

"I see," I said, smiling. "And when did you start it?"

"This morning," mumbled Mary as she bent down and pulled out a mostly written on piece of parchment.

"Wouldn't that have been during Divination?"

"So? I _divined_ that Vector would give me a D on this," she waved the parchment in the air, "if I don't complete it. _And then_ I foresaw that I would be working on it while Jameson was looking the other way."

I rolled my eyes.

"And who am I to question fate?" finished Mary in a satisfied manner.

"Who indeed?" I muttered. I looked at my watch. I still had forty-five minutes left to my lunch break, and then another free period after that.

Over the next ten minutes I marshalled my brain into actually doing my transfiguration homework.

"Bugger. I don't know the answer for this one," I complained after rereading the same question for five minutes straight. "Hell, I don't even understand the damn question!" I threw down my quill in annoyance.

Mary looked up from her furious scribbles. Her face had been so close to her parchment that there was one or two black ink freckles on her nose and after I spoke she jerked her head up in surprise as if she had forgotten I was even there.

"Eh?" she said, momentarily disconcerted.

"Can you help me with my Transfiguration problem?" I asked, gesturing to the textbook hopelessly. "I'm terribly confused."

Mary grinned. "Is the All-Knowing Lily asking little old me for _help_?"

"Not if you're going to be so smug about it," I retorted.

"'Fraid I can't help you then," Mary said, going back to her work with a smirk on her face.

"Fine! Yes, I, Lily Evans, are asking you, Mary Transfiguration-witch-of-the-century McDonald for help," I said dramatically, imploring her with my hands.

"You know, I always knew Elspeth didn't suit me as a middle name," Mary commented nonchalantly. "Oh, toss it over here."

Smiling, I did as I was told.

"You know," Mary said slowly without looking at me, "This _is_ difficult. Maybe you should ask the real Transfiguration prodigy himself?" She grinned at me.

I scowled as soon as I realized who she was talking about. "Don't you dare mention Potter to me."

"Testy, aren't we?"

"No," I said... a little testily.

"Did he do something to you, hon?" Mary asked, a concerned expression on her face. "Just say the word, and I'll hex him for you." She pulled out her wand and twirled it between her fingers, casually letting a few sparks shoot out of the end.

I smiled. "No, thanks. Not now, maybe later if-" I paused and abruptly went back to glaring at my Transfiguration book.

"If what?" Mary probed, all Arithmancy and Transfiguration forgotten.

"If Alice tells him that I fancy him," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.

"_What?_" Mary gasped. She floundered for a moment for words. "Y-you fancy Potter? _The_ James Potter who has always been a pain in your arse since, well, forever? Since when?"

"No," I said firmly while shaking my head emphatically. "I do not fancy Potter. Alice has just got it in her head that I do."

"Well, you might have said that in the first place!" Mary scolded, her hair band falling down her forehead in her haste to wag her finger reproachfully at me. "You came this close," she held up her fingers a centimetre apart, "to giving me a heart attack."

"Sorry."

Mary huffed in annoyance and put her hair band back in its place. "You should be. The day you fancy Potter is the day I willingly shag Nathaniel Burke."

I laughed. "Like that's going to happen. We all know you like them a bit older."

Mary sighed dreamily. "Yes I do," she smiled as she returned to the passage to study the question intently.

I tapped my quill against my chin impatiently as she flipped through the pages for references.

"Aha!" she exclaimed after a minute or two of flipping. "Just think, what does the circular movement do when transfiguring bone into porcelain?"

"It..." I drifted off, completely lost. "Oh!" I said, as the answer came to me. Finally.

"See?" Mary sat back in her seat, a rather self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Thanks a ton, Mary," I said gratefully as I wrote out my answer. "You're a life saver, really."

"I know. But I'm beginning to think my mates don't seem to say it enough," Mary said complacently as she turned back to her Artithmancy assignment.

We worked in silence for the next quarter of an hour. Just as I was checking over my answers, Mary realized she had to go.

"Damn, only three minutes to get to class," she said, jumping up and out of her seat. "Well, it's correct, if not legible. Do you think she'll take off points? No, never mind. Don't answer that," she said quickly, hoisting her bag on her shoulder.

"Thanks for the help!" I said loudly.

Mary turned and smiled. "See you hon, don't let McGonagall get you too down!" she called as she left the library.

I checked my watch a minute after Mary left me. I still had a whole free period ahead of me. Sighing I turned back to my half completed Transfiguration homework.

Ten minutes later I realized with a jolt that my mind had wandered very far from where it was supposed to be. Focus Lily! Focus! I reminded myself as I flipped a page of my textbook with quite a bit more force than was necessary. Wincing as I fingered the small rip near the spine, I turned the page with less hostility and read the beginning lines.

Five minutes later I found myself staring out the window, once again distracted from my work. Of course I wasn't admiring the beauty of Hogwarts grounds like a normal, sensible person, instead I was contemplating _a boy_.

Bah.

Of course it was in no romantic prospect whatsoever, but still. I hated being squashed into a cliché.

Mentally cursing Potter and everything and everyone associated with him, I dragged the supplementary Transfiguration text out of my bag. As I sat and stared at the questions, I tried to convince myself that this is mountain load of homework assigned to me was not some newfound method of torture that McGonagall somehow slipped by Dumbledore. I knew at least _he_ cared for his students and wanted us to be happy, healthy children. Not mad lunatics that couldn't even write one coherent sentence about Transfiguration and who were ready to tear their hair out of their skulls because of a pesky, persistent prat named Potter.

It took a grand total of one minute before I was banging my head against the table in frustration. I took a sidelong glance at the journal article that McGonagall wanted us to read and slid it towards me while my head was still bent over the desk.

Thirty seconds later I was going cross-eyed from trying to read a phrase two inches in front of my nose. Giving it up with a snort, I raised my head and closed my eyes. I leaned back in my chair and tried to sort out exactly what was bothering me.

I felt quite proud of myself once I had figured most of my problems out in some cathartic mental calming process, and so I wrote it down into a neat little list.

_Transfiguration work is absolutely impossible_

_I can't help thinking that Potter could finish it in a heartbeat_

_I am sleep deprived_

_Because Potter cannot make up his bloody mind if he's nice or a total prat_

_I just made an agreement with a bloke I hate_

_Potter's stupid truce means that I can't even threat to hex his balls off when he asks me out_

_My best mate might have divulged important false information to the Marauders_

_Potter will be relentless and probably continue to ask me out _

_Then Potter will reprimand me when I get so annoyed that I do hex his balls off because of our truce_

_Potter's illogical mind works like that._

_Potter and I have Potions next period_

I'm pretty sure there was a pattern to all this. Some underlying cause for all my misery. If only I could put my finger on it...

Ugh.

_I hate Potter. I hate Potter. I hate Pott-_

I'm positive I could have continued in this vein for the rest of the day, but alas a loud noise behind me threw my mantra off balance. I turned around just soon enough to catch Frank Longbottom scoop up the book he just dropped, looking around him sheepishly.

"Hi Lily," he whispered, sidling up to my table. I quickly pulled out a chair and indicated for him to sit next to me. Merlin, anything to get Potter out of my head. It was bad enough that he bothered me when he was physically in the same room; if he started to do it while he is elsewhere in the castle I think I may try to find out if he could still annoy me while suffering from a bad case of, oh I don't know, _death_ or something similar.

Just a thought.

Frank looked fairly anxious. I shot him a worried glance. Deciding that McGonagall was simply daft when she gave us homework like this, I shut my textbook and shoved it off the table with my elbow.

I felt a stupidly giddy when I heard it drop to the floor with a loud thud. Aha, take that textbook! Beware the wrath of Lily Evans! ...Beware!

Giving Frank my full attention, I gave him a winning smile.

He looked slightly scared.

I quickly toned it down from what I assumed to be a fairly manic grin to a normal, non-teeth-baring expression of pleasure. "What's up Frank?" I asked him casually.

Still eyeing me warily, he muttered, "Nothing really, Lily."

"You sure?" I pressed.

"Yeah," he sighed. Suddenly, but not wholly unexpectedly, he asked, "Have you seen Alice?"

I shrugged, still smiling at him. "Last I heard she was eating lunch with the Marauders but she has a free period now, so she might be anywhere. Why?"

"Just wondering," said Frank quickly.

"You're not turning into some sort of creepy stalker, are you?" I asked, teasing him a little. "This is the second time you've asked me about her whereabouts in two days."

Frank frowned.

"You know, if you are, I'd just warn you. Mary and I know a very wide array of hexes and jinxes between the two of us. I prefer a very showy form of punishment, aim for head or chest. Mary likes to be very secretive and aims for," I broke off and let my eyes wander down before continuing, "other areas."

Frank gulped nervously.

"We complement each other very nicely, don't you think?" I smiled sweetly at him.

Frank looked uneasy. I guess he was remembering whatever punishments I'd doled out to Potter of the years and wondering what on Earth slight, skinny Mary could conjure up. "Er, I-I guess so," he stuttered out, eyes wide.

I laughed. "I'm glad you agree."

He didn't respond. Probably he was trying to calculate all the escape routes from his current position.

"Don't be so alarmed there, Frank," I told him bracingly, "I was just messing with you."

He practically sagged with relief.

"Nope, Alice gets mad whenever we try to fight for her," I told him, doodling on a scrap bit of parchment left on the table. "It's Alice herself who you've got to watch out for. She can be right terrifying if she wants to be."

He started to fiddle with the sleeve of his robe.

"That is," I amended, "if she doesn't trip in the middle of her curse and get herself instead."

Frank gave a small chuckle.

"It's happened more often than you'd think," I insisted, "or that she'd like to remember."

"If you say so."

"No worries. If you don't mess up too badly, you'll never have to find out, will you?" I shaded the tiny sketch of a cat that I had just done.

"I don't plan on it."

"Good," I stated firmly. Squinting, I decided to make it a dog at last minute. It looked more like one anyway. I drew a narrow collar and wrote in miniscule writing, 'Spot.' I leaned back and surveyed my handiwork.

"Nice, er, sheep you've got there," said Frank, sniggering slightly as he looked over my shoulder.

Clearly my whole Intimidation of the New Boyfriend Act needed some patching up. He had the gall to laught at me! Not that I minded, though. "Thanks," I muttered. Really, when it comes to my artwork I'll take any compliment I can get.

"Anyway, er, nice talking with you," Frank said, getting up to leave. "It's been fun." He gave me a wry smile before he left.

"Bye."

I was alone again in my corner of the library.

I glanced back down at my watch. Shit. It was nearly three! I quickly gathered my bag and shoved in my Transfiguration textbook unceremoniously among my papers. While making my quick exit, I blithely ignored the librarian's angry calls of, "no running in the library!" and continued down the corridor.

I rapidly walked down the many staircases to the dungeons and practically sprinted down the last hall to join my fellow classmates. Lucky buggers looked like they had probably been lounging outside for the past few minutes.

Breathing heavily, I heaved a great sigh as I patted down my hair and checked to see if all my clothes hung properly. My skirt hadn't ridden up, my bag hadn't pulled my collar over to my shoulder to reveal any bra straps and my shirt was still tucked in. Let's commence the brewing!

I entered in a few moments after the last person sat down. Still focused on getting oxygen to necessary parts of my body, I failed to notice that I had no seat until I was standing in the front of the classroom, staring around like a total idiot.

I glanced towards the back; Mary and Alice were seated together and probably gossiping away if their wildly gesticulating hands were any indication. Next to them Black and Peter were sitting together, talking as well. Remus didn't take Potions. Poor bloke. He was my partner since we were first years, but even after my meticulous tutoring, he still flopped his OWL with a D.

I stood stock still at the front of the classroom, eyes roving over every single face before resting on the only free seat. I couldn't believe it. For the second time that day Potter had managed to wrangle the only empty seat in the classroom. Did fate hate me? Why else would I be given such a crappy life?

Sighing, I walked over to where Potter was sitting and grinning broadly. "How goes it, Evans?" he asked, rumpling his hair.

"I repeat, no funny business, Potter," I said without preamble. "I just want to get this class over with."

"Fine, fine," he said airily, picking out potion ingredients from his stores.

"Say, Evans, who do you fancy?" he asked suddenly.

Merlin, he certainly skipped the whole bush-beating part.

"Excuse me?" I asked coolly, raising my eyebrows. Meanwhile my insides were dancing the conga. Alice clearly hadn't shared her mad Lily-fancies-James theory! That's one thing crossed off my list.

"Well," he ducked his head down as he rumpled his hair again, "Alice hinted that you might fancy someone, and I was just wondering who it is."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Black and Pettigrew were ignoring Slughorn in favour of the bit of gossip I was (not) about to give. I heard that Alice also tried to stop her conversation to eavesdrop, but Mary was having none of it and was continuing to talk like nothing was happening.

"Potter, let me make this _very clear_," I explained seriously, "It is none of your business who I may fancy."

"But-"

"But what Potter?" I demanded, rounding on him. "We have no special relationship. We are not friends. You have no reason to be privy to my private life!"

"Really, Evans, you positively _wound _me," Potter said sarcastically as he lit a fire beneath our cauldron.

"Why would I subject any bloke to your temper?" I asked, looking at him askance as I unpacked the necessary ingredients.

"Hark who's talking!" he exclaimed, reaching in his bag to pull out his Potions textbook. He slammed it on the desk. "You just blew up in my face because I asked a simple question! Bit like the cauldron calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

Hands shaking, I pulled Potter's book over and flipped to the necessary page for the potion we were making.

"I was just curious!" he finished defensively.

"Well, you can take your curiosity and shove it up your-"

"Come on students! Let's get those Blood Replenishing Potions going!" Slughorn's voice boomed over the dungeon, effectively drowning out the rest of my sentence. "Twenty points to any pair who makes a usable potion for Madam Pomfrey!" He chuckled, "Anyone feel like taking on Severus here?" his eyes roved around the dungeon. "No takers? How about you Miss Evans?"

"Perhaps, sir," I said sweetly, supremely ignoring Sev's quick glance in my direction and looking up into Slughorn's genial face.

"Oh why not make a bit of a challenge out of it? Just for you two, eh?" he proposed genially, eyes darting between my table and Sev's. "Make that twenty-five points to either Gryffindor or Slytherin for Miss Evans or Severus – whoever finishes the potion first!"

I let out a quiet groan. Just what I needed, to put on another show for Slughorn. Of course I would never hear the end of it if I let Sev beat me during the Slug Club meetings.

I quickly began measuring out the ingredients and began to dice the actuarius roots. Holding it lightly with the tips of my fingers because of the coarse red hairs that coated the plant, I chopped at them roughly. Frankly I was willing to do anything to get the job done. Plus I knew that I could make up any uneven damage by being extra liberal with the pinch of borage leaves that the potion required a few steps later.

"Merlin, Evans," Potter exclaimed as he watched me hack away at the roots with a worried expression, "Slow down. Snape hasn't even begun stirring clockwise yet, we've got plenty of time." He reached out a hand to steady my own.

"Look, Potter," I snarled as I gesticulated with the knife in my hand, "I just want to get this done in a timely manner with the least amount of fuss from you."

He swiftly withdrew his hand from my general vicinity. "Woah Evans," he said, eyeing the knife pointed in his general direction with some expression akin to terror, "Watch it there, you nearly took off my nose."

I didn't respond. Instead I huffily turned away from him and scraped the diced roots into the cauldron.

"Measure out those borage leaves, I'll get the madwort powder."

He nodded, clearly not wishing to try any bolder action in case I felt so inclined as to curse his head off along with his precious nose.

I reached for the jar and struggled to prise open the vacuum sealed lid.

"Need any help there, Evans?" Potter asked tentatively as I continued to wrestle with the top.

"No, I got it," I muttered, grunting with the effort. Finally it came loose. As I jerked the lid off, a cloud of the swampy green powder flew up in the air. "Ha!" I exclaimed.

"Fuck, Evans," Potter breathed before sucking in a quick breath.

Suddenly the room turned at the oddest angle. My chest constricted painfully and I took a deep breath to fill my unexplainably empty lungs. It felt like I inhaled the fumes from inside a dragon's mouth. Hot, painful and fairly malodorous, the air was not what I was expecting at all. Coughing heavily, I clutched at my seat to steady myself in the spinning dungeon classroom.

From a long way off I heard Potter's voice shouting something to Professor Slughorn. Abruptly he grabbed me by my upper arms and steered me toward what I barely perceived as the exit, holding me in front of him as he navigated the desks. "Come on, Evans, move!" whispered Potter in my ear.

My brain was fuzzy. There were no other words to describe it. I couldn't think of anything but being obedient to Potter's command. Rather than expending any energy to refuse or retort back, I followed dutifully in his wake as he led me by the hand out the door and up the nearest staircase.

It didn't even occur to me to wonder why we were leaving class early or that anything was wrong with me at all. It was a very strange feeling overall.

"Wait," I pleaded faintly after the fourth flight of stairs, "I'm tired."

"Aw, Evans," Potter sighed, "Hospital Wing's only down this corridor. You can make it the rest of the way, right?"

I shook my head slowly. "I want to sleep," I said petulantly. I let go of his hand and rubbed my face with the heels of my hands. "I'm tired," I repeated.

Potter looked down at me, his face showing no exasperation for my childish antics. Instead he adopted the paradoxically joking and serious manner he had with Emmeline yesterday night. "That's alright, Evans," he said kindly, "But it'd be better if you went to sleep in there," he jerked his head to indicate the Hospital Wing entrance. "The hallway's fairly uncomfortable anyway. Stone makes a rubbish bed, let me tell you." He nodded solemnly.

I blinked slowly up at him.

After waiting a moment for a reaction that never came, Potter continued, "They have beds and everything. Just for you." He tapped the end of my nose with his finger.

I giggled for a bit and then stopped. Something about the action felt wrong.

"Okay then?" he asked as he looked at me carefully, "Let's go, Evans. The faster you get there the faster you can lay down." He grabbed my hand once again doubled the pace of our footsteps.

Madam Pomfrey turned at the sound of our arrival. After seeing who it was, she heaved a great sigh. "Potter, what have you done _now?"_ she asked, looking concernedly at me as I jumped eagerly into the nearest bed.

"Nothing!" Potter said instantly. "We were in Potions class and Evans by accident inhaled madwort powder when she opened the jar."

"Oh dear," Madam Pomfrey sighed, hurrying over to me. "How much?"

Potter scratched his head. "Er, I dunno, a lot." Oddly enough he made no attempt to follow her as she made her way over to my bed.

Madam Pomfrey made a dissatisfied noise once she realized how little information Potter could give. "I'll see to Miss Evans. Mr. Potter, you're free to go. Get back to class," she said over her shoulder as she peered into my eyes and inspected the insides of my mouth.

"I'll just give Evans her things, and I'll be off," said Potter as he walked over to my bed. "Hey," he breathed.

"Hey," I returned, as Madam Pomfrey began twirling her wand over my chest in a complicated motion.

"I've got your bag, I'll just leave it here, yeah?" He gently set it down next to the side of my bed.

"Great."

And without another word, he left.

"Just as I feared," Madam Pomfrey muttered from my other side. "Miss Evans, if you wait here a moment," she said before she bustled off.

While I was looking up at the ceiling I wondered why they didn't bewitch it to show the sky like the one in the Great Hall. This one was boring. Only reddish brown wood and white paint. Very dull indeed.

As I contemplated the kind of shapes I would see in the clouds if I could see them though the Hospital Wing roof, Madam Pomfrey returned with a green cloth in her hands.

Gently she placed the somewhat damp piece of fabric over my nose and mouth. "There you go, Miss Evans," she said, "That'll clear the symptoms right up. You'd better keep that on for the next hour or so, or else some of the madwort powder might remain and you'll have respiratory problems for Merlin knows how long." She looked at me for a moment. "Honestly," she muttered, "Why didn't she just empty the whole thing over her head and be done with it?" and with that she left me.

I tentatively took a breath with the cloth over my nose. Please, I'd learned the last time to not breathe in funny fumes. The scent emanating from the cloth was bitter. I blinked rapidly to get rid of the automatic tears that sprang to my eyes as my sinuses were forcefully prised open. Needless to say all tiredness evaporated instantly.

Over the next few minutes the fuzziness also began to ebb, leaving behind a deep chord of embarrassment that resonated in the pit of my stomach every time I remembered just exactly how I had gotten in the Hospital Wing bed in the first place. Stupid, stupid, I chanted to myself inside my head. I was so angry with Potter and everything he had done in the past twenty-four hours that I forgot about the dangers of madwort powder.

He was just so confusing!

First he acted like a total prat in Transfiguration yesterday and then turned around and comforted Emmeline Vance after she was attacked. Secondly he made that truce and then proceeded to practically break it with perverted notes and daydreams. Thirdly he nicely saw that I got to the Hospital Wing alright and then left without another word!

It was like I had this Potter puzzle with one piece left. So, as of two days ago, I thought I had it all figured out. All the pieces fit and finishing it seemed all too easy. Now I felt like someone switched the final piece on me! As much as I tried to squash that last bit into the final empty space, it wouldn't go. It wouldn't fit perfectly.

A Potter puzzle? Merlin, this poetic metaphor business surely signalled an early onset of madness.

Ugh. I _hated_ Potter. He bothered me to no end. Even in hypothetical situations!

And I hated this cloth. It was truly awful, whatever noxious plant fumes Pomfrey had me breathing in. Plus I felt like a total idiot with a towel over half my face.

I looked around the Hospital Wing. Apparently this fine Thursday was a slow day for diseased or physically maimed Hogwartians because only two beds other than mine were occupied.

One was filled with a third year boy with some bulky cast over his leg that practically screamed, 'Quidditch Accident Victim!' Poor bloke, he looked like he was passed out cold.

The other contained a fifth year boy with what seemed like gross yellow sludge secreting from his scalp.

Um. Ew.

What's worse, he seemed to be staring at me. I glared at him as if to say, 'What are you looking at, Sludge-Boy?'

I tried and failed to hide my smirk when he was the first one to look away.

I checked my watch. Damn. Only five minutes had passed! What did Pomfrey say? A whole hour? Double damn.

I wracked my brains for idea as to how I could occupy myself. Frankly I didn't fancy staring at Sludge-Boy for fifty-five more minutes. After all, I didn't know if my coordination would let me vomit and keep the stupid towel over my nose at the same time.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted my bag that Potter was thoughtful enough to remember to leave for me. Who even knew that was possible? I sure didn't. In fact, just yesterday I would have said that 'thoughtful' and 'Potter' were words so from apart that their only similarity was the fact that they were both in Black's encyclopaedia. And that's just because an encyclopaedia is _supposed_ to have everything, incongruous or not.

I let out a small resigned sigh that fluttered the bit of cloth above my chin. Schoolwork it was then, since nothing else came to mind. I leaned over my bed. With one hand pressed over my mouth to keep the towel in place and the other reaching around blindly, I floundered around for a few minutes before my fist made contact with the canvas of my bag. I heaved it onto my lap with a grunt of effort and peered inside it. I quickly passed over my Transfiguration and Potions textbooks. With a curious expression, I lifted out the somewhat crumpled letter I had received this morning at breakfast. The one from _H_.

Hmmm. Now seemed as good a time as ever to respond.

I rifled through my bag once again and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkbottle. I gently lowered my other items back on the floor once I had taken out all my supplies and rolled over on my stomach. I grabbed my Transfiguration textbook – finally it would serve some use! – and draped my piece of parchment over it. Finally I dipped my quill in my inkbottle and began to write.

_Dear H,_

_It seems we have found that we have something in common after all! That is what this project is supposed to get us to do, right? I guess we can therefore rejoice in our shared lack of artistic talent. Whatever, I suppose there are worse things we could be horrible at. I'll have you know I did a drawing of a dog earlier today, and a bloke told me he liked my sheep. What sheep wears a collar, I ask you? Alright it was rather fluffy, and its tail was somewhat nonexistent... Ehh. It was a doodle. Doodles are supposed to be bad, right?_

_I have to let you know, and I hope this doesn't ruin the start of our beautiful friendship that is sure to unfold, but I secretly don't care for Quidditch. What a joy it is to be you, H, and privy to these scandalous secrets of mine! Most of my friends are actually on the Quidditch team (or will be when our captain has tryouts in a week or two) so they can't keep an eye on me while I am in the stands. Whenever I go to a Quiddtich game I bring a book with me. To show support I do stand up and cheer when a Chaser scores a goal and all that, but if nothing of that sort is happening I find the sport to be hopelessly dull. Sorry._

_I was wondering if I could ask you a question. I need some advice. Is it somehow one of your strengths, apart from Quidditch, that you forgot to mention in your last letter? If it is, I'd be much obliged if you helped me with a little problem I have. It's just that I've been having some very strange interactions with a bloke I know. Previously I've found him to be extremely irritating. Now, however, he seems sometimes repentant over his past actions. Then he turns back around and acts like a total git again. What do I do? How do I react? It's just that I feel really guilty because last period I just snapped at him and then he had to go around and do something nice to me a few minutes ago. Please, anything you could say on the subject would be extremely helpful._

_So I was thinking about a suitable initial. I don't really fancy being called 'Friend.' It was rather lame, I admit. I think I'll go with the letter T, as it is the start of a nickname that my dad gave me when I was little._

_Sincerely,_

_T_

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**A/N: Reviews = unconditional love**


	8. In which J meets with L

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter is super-duper long - 2x my usual word count. Yay for James fangirls!**

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I paced in front of the Hospital Wing doors for a few moments after I left Evans inside. I desperately wanted to go back in there and see how she was doing, but the knowledge that Evans would probably curse my legs off, closely followed by my face, because I had sidetracked her back in Potions stopped me from placing one toe in the Hospital Wing door.

Merlin, I was so stupid! How could I have let her open that damn jar?

Cursing my idiocy, I continued to walk up and down the corridor. Of course I had to be a complete unobservant arse (Evans's words from past arguments) and forget that she was handling potentially dangerous ingredients.

Forget it. Multitasking was overrated. For me at least, as it seemed that I couldn't think and talk at the same time.

Bloody hell, even Snivellus managed to do that on a regular basis!

Mostly. At least, whenever he wasn't around Evans. Then he seemed as tongue-tied and brainless as I was.

I shuddered. It was the only thing we had in common.

Of course, I was far more handsome than Snivellus even on my worst day, so there was no competition there. Especially after I hexed his skin a different colour and added boils to his arms for aesthetic effect. The complementary red boils and green overtones did look very nice together. Sod it all, my mates knew nothing. I was a fabulous artist.

I figured I had two options open to me: I could march back in there and hopefully squeeze in one measly apology before she did incredibly painful magical harm to my person, or I could turn around and skive off the rest of Potions in the kitchens, drowning my sorrows in a large mug of butterbeer.

Yeah, I liked the second option too.

I made my way to the kitchens; down the two flights of stairs and through the door hiding as solid wall. I swiftly walked across the Great Hall to the entrance to the basement. I tickled the pear, which laughed before the whole frame swung forward. Immediately an intoxicating scent of roast chicken, mashed potatoes and something sweet assailed my senses as I stepped into the Hogwarts kitchens.

"Hello Mr. Potter, sir!" a house elf squeaked at my elbow. "Is there anything Buzz can get you?"

I smiled down at his eager face practically bobbing around my midsection in his willingness to please. "I'll have a butterbeer and whatever snacks you have laying around, thanks," I said as Buzz steered me toward a small table in the corner, a few feet away from the mock Hufflepuff table near the far left wall.

"Buzz is getting Mr. Potter his drink right now, sir!" he said happily before he scuttled off.

I barely had time to let out a horribly depressed sounding sigh before Buzz was back, this time holding a very full container of butterbeer. He brought another house elf with him who was holding a tray laden with tea sandwiches and various assortments of biscuits.

Merlin, it looked as if her twiggy little arms would snap off at any second from the weight. Quickly I took the snacks from her to set them down at my table.

"Is there anything else Dolly can get the young master?" she asked in a high voice, looking demurely down at my shoes once she was relieved of her burden.

"No thank you," I said to the pair of them, "This is great." As if to illustrate my point, I chose a biscuit at random and took a huge bite.

"Dolly and Buzz is happy to hear that, Mr. Potter," beamed Buzz. "Dolly and Buzz will be getting ready for dinner now."

"Y'go do tha,' " I said with my mouth full of biscuit.

They left me and I was left to wallow in my misery in peace.

Evans would kill me once she got back in her right mind. I had even made that truce and refrained from asking her out! Mostly. But I think she got the message, at least. She did pass notes with me earlier and talk to me during lunch... that had to mean something, right?

Knowing Evans she would just see what she wanted to see: an obnoxious prat who annoyed the hell out of her and couldn't do anything right.

Scowling to myself, I was just draining my butterbeer as someone entered the kitchens. I was too glum to even bother to muster up the energy and turn around.

"Shouldn't you be in Potions right about now?" a voice reprimanded me from the middle of a cloud of smoke.

I grunted in response.

In the distance I hear high pitched yelps; I guessed that the house elves must've set something on fire by accident. Either that or they were trying their luck at fajitas.

Privately, I was hoping for the latter.

"Really, you're Head Boy. Skiving of class is never good," admonished the dark outline that was growing steadily more solid.

Totally corporeal now, Remus stopped to stand right next to the side of my chair. "What would Lily say?" he continued, grabbing two chocolate biscuits. He shoved one in his pocket for later and immediately began nibbling on the one left in his hand.

"Probably that I am a horrible Potions partner who deserves to die a cruel and unusual death at the hands of an emerald-eyed redhead who read up on some very colourful potions for Slughorn's extra credit last night and needs a guinea pig to test them on," I said morosely before I lifted my tankard and drained the last few drops of butterbeer.

Remus paused with the biscuit halfway to his mouth. "Um, Prongs? That was highly detailed," he said with raised eyebrows.

"It was," I agreed.

"I sense that you gave this a lot of thought."

"I have."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

Remus pulled up a chair. I grimaced. I could tell that he was going to prise the story out of me no matter how long it took. Stupid Moony couldn't see that I wanted to be alone? I mean, I was scowling, I had my glasses off – all the better to broodingly glare at fuzzy random objects, and I had even splattered some stray butterbeer drops on my white shirt when I slammed my empty glass back down oh so angrily on the table. If that didn't scream, I-am-being-antisocial-so- back-off-like-a-little-girl-or-face-my-wrath, I didn't know what did. Hell, I might up and scream _just that_ at Remus if he wasn't careful. I think I'd just say 'go the fuck away' and leave it at that. The other exclamation was a little wordy and hard to remember.

"You sure? Maybe if you tell me what's going on I could help," explained Remus as he sat down.

"Probably not."

"Suit yourself." He took another biscuit and signalled to a house elf to refill my butterbeer and get one for himself.

Excuse me?

I gaped at him and put my glasses back on. "What, no prying? No, 'sharing is a cathartic experience that every traumatized individual must go through to achieve salvation' or whatever nonsense you usually sprout?"

Remus gave me a pitying smile and chuckled softly to himself. "Relieve frustration, Prongs. Not 'achieve salvation,'" he snickered.

"Ah."

He rolled his eyes. "Honestly." He took a sip of his newly arrived butterbeer.

I shrugged. Not my fault if I usually tuned him out when he was lecturing. Usually it was because he was reprimanding me, but in the rare cases like these I stopped listening because the damn bugger was _too good_. He snuck up on you entirely unawares with all his coaxing and stupid rational reasons for _everything_. Before I knew it I'd be spilling my entire guts out to Moony and then bawling like a child on the floor, blaming my parents for my sexual frustration.

Ehh. That's an exaggeration.

Because I would not be crying.

Because I am a man. No, I would probably be throwing large, heavy objects around the room in a very masculine fashion and making a general ruckus. Of course.

Because making ruckuses was what _men_ did. Not tearing up after getting all emotional because he had been rejected for the whopping hundredth and fifty second time in a row. No, as Sirius so often said, that's what thirteen-year-old girls did. No self respecting man would be caught bemoaning his obviously dead future and crying over a _bird._ Er, I might have been caught inhaling Draught of Death fumes a couple of times, but that was an entirely different matter.

"Come on, Prongs, what's Lily done to get your knickers in a twist?" asked Remus as he leaned back in his chair, butterbeer nestled comfortably in his right hand.

"You sound like Padfoot."

"Yes, well, we have been living together for the greater part of seven years." He paused and then continued, "I repeat, what in Merlin's name did Lily do?"

"Who said she's done anything?"

Remus sighed and selected an extra large chocolate biscuit. "I see," he said in a significant voice. "What did _you_ do to get _her_ knickers in a twist?"

I remained stonily silent.

"Come on, Prongs," he wheedled, "I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

"Then don't help."

Remus finished his biscuit in record time and then surveyed me patiently over his butterbeer. Clearly he wasn't having any of my surliness.

"Go the fuck away," I said shortly.

"Now that's not very nice," Remus said, frowning at me as he lowered his glass.

"Yeah, well I'm not a nice person."

"I beg to differ."

Silence.

Remus sighed again set his half full butterbeer on the table. "So, Prongs, what did you do to convince Lily that you aren't a nice person?" he asked, his golden eyes searching my face intently for any clues.

Resist! Resist! Res-!

"I let her inhale madwort powder in Potions earlier," I admitted.

Damn.

Remus looked confused. "What does that do again?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the table as he tried to remember. Merlin, Potions was really his one weak point. Er, apart from that other weak point that happens about once a month.

"Makes you go all loopy and gives you a hacking cough for a year or so unless treated immediately," I explained dejectedly before taking another sip of my butterbeer.

"Oh my," Remus breathed, looking at me closely. He stopped his table tapping.

"You're telling me," I sighed.

"So did you get her help immediately?"

"Well, yeah," I muttered.

Remus smiled and this time selected a small ham sandwich to eat. "Then what's the problem?" he asked once he had chewed and swallowed. "I take it she's fine, but then why do you look like an emotional wreck? What gives?"

"I should've warned her, remembered about the stupid powder..."

Remus looked troubled. "As I recall Lily is even better at Potions than you are. Why couldn't she remember herself?"

I looked away sheepishly. "Because she was too busy telling me off," I explained slowly.

Remus whistled. "And why was she telling you off?"

"Er, because I asked her who she fancied?" I said, wincing as I anticipated Remus's reaction.

He groaned. "Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

"I was curious!" I repeated in the same defensive manner as before.

Remus raised one hand to rub his fingers along his temple. "Prongs, really, how many times do I have to tell you? She's not going to ever fancy you if you're constantly trying to shove yourself in her face. Give her time. Right now she can't see what a great bloke you are because for some bizarre reason that is completely beyond me, you keep acting like a total prat whenever you're around her."

"I understand but-" I tried to cut in, but Remus was nowhere near finished.

"Tone it down and stop trying to show her how much you fancy her – believe me, she's really not worth it if she's hasn't gotten the message by now. You know, some things can work themselves out on their own."

I snorted. "Like fate or something?"

Remus blushed slightly. "Something like that."

I chuckled.

"Please don't tell Padfoot," he pleaded. "He'll take the mickey out of me for ages if he gets wind that I've been reading those adventure novels again."

"I solemnly swear your secret is safe with me," I said, grinning.

"Why do I get the feeling that your word is less than admirable?" grumbled Remus as took a long drink from his butterbeer.

"I take offense at that!" I blustered.

Remus made a disbelieving sound over the rim of his glass. "Please, Prongs. You can't keep _anything_ from Padfoot."

"I can!"

"No, you can't," he contradicted shrewdly. "Remember when you found out about my 'furry little problem'? I asked, nay, _pleaded_, with you to not tell anyone else. What happened next?"

"I didn't breathe a word to anyone for the next month and a half!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Please. You were passing notes with Padfoot that entire time before the big confrontation he had with me."

"See?" I said excitedly, "I didn't _tell_ him anything!"

Remus began to laugh. "That's entirely beside the point. And I thought you were bright enough to understand the general idea I was trying to convey..."

"I was twelve!"

"No one is that stupid at twelve, Prongs."

"Yeah they are. The little midgets have smaller brains at that age."

"I can't even think up a response to that."

"Because the sheer brilliance of it leaves you speechless," I said smugly.

"No," Remus paused, "because it is the most ridiculous reasoning I have ever heard."

"It's true!"

"Oh I don't doubt it, Prongs, but the relevancy still eludes me." Remus glanced at me and smiled. "Come on let's get out of here. The period ended fifteen minutes ago. Gryffindor Tower?" he asked as he stood up to leave.

"Sure," I said distractedly, draining my second mug of butterbeer as I gathered my things together, "Let's go."

We both trooped out of the kitchens, waving to the house elves on our way out. They cheerily squeaked goodbyes and as usual offered us goods to take back with us. We politely refused, as we had learned from experience that it was much, much harder to sneak away from the kitchens and back to Gryffindor Tower when carrying baskets and hampers of pastries.

Thank Merlin Dumbledore liked raspberry tarts.

"Wait, Moony," I asked as we turned to climb the first staircase, "Why were you in the kitchens in the first place?"

Remus smiled. "I had a free because I don't take Potions and so I figured it would be the best time to restock my chocolate supply. My original destination had been Hogsmeade, but I got sidetracked. I was going to use that secret passage behind the painting of the raja a little ways off from the kitchens," he explained, "Anyway, I pulled out the map and saw where your dot was and I decided to come and investigate."

"Sorry I interrupted your chocolate run, Moony," I apologized.

"No problem," he said lightly. "But I'll have you know, that you're coming with me on my next one because you interrupted the original plan."

"Fair enough."

"So, what do you want to do later?" Remus asked, "Check up on Lily?"

I blanched. "Shite," I muttered.

He turned to stare at me curiously. "What's wrong, Prongs?" he asked in a bemused voice.

"Evans. Meeting." I glanced at my watch. "Fuck, it began five minutes ago, she's going to kill me in an even more painful way than before!" I hiked my bag more securely on my shoulder and called to Remus over my shoulder, "Sorry Moony, got to go!" I sprinted for everything my life was worth to get to the Heads Common Room.

I skidded to a halt in front of the painting three minutes later, totally winded and panting for air. "Shoelace," I gasped in the direction of the middle aged man in vivid purple robes who was currently playing what looked like solitaire on the lone kitchen table that was depicted in his picture. "Go on in, sonny," he said before he swung forward.

Bracing myself for Evans's wrath, I cautiously peeked into the door while mentally cursing my loud, heavy breathing for giving away my position.

No one was there.

I straightened up and entered the room like a normal person, sweeping my eyes once again around the Heads common room. I was now sure it was empty. Frowning to myself, I dropped my bag underneath the centre table and walked over to flop myself down on one of the pale orange couches that lined the walls.

Of course, she must still be in the Hospital Wing, I reasoned with myself. I checked my watch again. Yes, the meeting should've started ten minutes ago. And she wasn't here.

I quietly revelled in the whole backwardness of it all. Me, here only a few minutes late and Evans not here at all. How odd.

At least I'll get a chance to think of what I want to say to her, I thought to myself as I stretched out on the couch. I mean, I did get her practically poisoned and all. I think that would require some sort of apology? Desperate, pathetic begging and pleading should do the trick, I supposed.

Just as I was polishing up the finer points of my speech, Evans herself emerged from the portrait hole.

All the words seemed to be magically wiped from my mind when I caught sight of her. Bloody hell, she was so gorgeous, even with her fiery hair in a messy bun and her skin paler than normal. The contrast made it look like she was glowing softly in the firelight. It was kind of nice.

If only she would turn around... I'm sure the light would make her bum look very nice as well.

I guess we can't have everything in life because Evans didn't turn around to let me admire that particular spot. Truthfully I would probably faint dead away if she _did._

Instead she just had to open her mouth and ruin the moment. "Potter!" she said sharply as she caught sight of me on the couch. "You're here?"

I was slightly offended. "Of course," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "You told me to be here, so here I am."

Strangely enough Evans followed my pronouncement with a sort of nervous smile. "Oh right," she gave a small laugh, "Let's get started, shall we?"

She walked to the table, sat down, and began hauling papers out of her bag.

"So, er, Evans," I asked as I took the seat next to her, "What exactly are we supposed to be doing?"

Evans looked up at me with wide eyes. Blinking slowly, she arrested her hands from shuffling the papers. "Wait, Potter," she started, keeping steady eye contact with me, "I think we should talk about a few things first."

Perfect. And now let's commence the yelling!

Still, I wanted to head her off before she began. I opened my mouth to ramble out whatever remnants of my prepared apology remained in my memory.

"I'm sorry."

Um, what? As I was being a total arse, I thought that it was my job to make up at least _some_ lost ground by apologizing profusely. What was Evans's excuse?

I snapped my mouth closed, else it remained open for too long and started attracting doxies.

"Look, I shouldn't have overreacted," muttered Evans, looking down at her lap. "I mean, that's what our whole truce was, right? I was supposed to not lose my temper with you." She gave me a wry smile. "But, in my defence, you do make it very hard."

"I try," I said, unable to help myself.

Instead of getting angry at me for interrupting her, she laughed slightly. True, it was quiet and still tinged with nerves, but a laugh nonetheless.

I revelled in it.

Her smile got a smidge wider as she took in my beaming face. "Sometimes I think you really do," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I'm sorry and I hope we can still work together without anything getting too out of hand."

"Of course, Evans!" I said cheerfully, taking one of her papers and examining it. "So what are we doing exactly?"

"Oh," she said, sitting up straighter and looking a lot more confident now that the whole ordeal of apologizing to a bloke she loathed (but of course secretly had a burning passion for) was out of the way. "The prefect timetables that arranged on the Hogwarts Express aren't working," she explained.

I scanned the columns and rows of times and names that Evans had neatly printed on several pieces of parchment. "I see why," I muttered, running a hand through my hair as I thought.

Evans threw me a disbelieving expression. "And how would you know that?"

"Look," I said, pointing to a row, "You have Slytherins patrolling the dungeons? I know they have the homepitch advantage for catching rule breakers, but I'm guessing they'd rather sit in their cold and clammy dungeon common room than patrol."

Evans stared at me. "Yes, that was a problem I was beginning to notice," she admitted.

"And see," I said, pointing to a couple of names, "You have way too many Gryffindors paired up with Slytherins for patrol duty."

She sighed. "I knew it was risky, but I hoped..."

I gave her a half smile. "I know. But you can't force people to like each other. Believe me, I've tried." I made a face at her.

Evans openly laughed at that. "Don't I know it."

I shook my head sadly, trying my hardest to keep the grin off my face. "I know, and I tried for _so _long, but she was just so... " I trailed off.

"So...what?" Evans asked, emerald eyes narrowing slightly.

"Stubborn? Cold?" I proposed, while taking my glasses off and polishing them slowly on my robes to keep my eyes away from her face.

By the time I had gotten them all spic and span and settled them back on my nose, Evans was about ready to blow. Ah this was fun! I really did love the thrill of winding her up. Usually Remus was there to point out the invisible sign on Evans's forehead that read quite clearly, "Annoy at your own risk." However, no Remus now, so I was free to do whatever stupid things I wanted to!

"Potter, I'll have you know-" she began furiously, but I spoke above her and drowned out her voice.

"Self righteous?" I proposed thoughtfully.

That was possibly the worse thing I could have said. She turned an even deeper shade of red at my words and abruptly her quill snapped in her tightly clenched fist. Ignoring that, she continued heatedly, "-that no one can expect me to stand by idly while being so blatantly insulted, stupid truce or no!"

I cut her off. "As I was saying, there are more adjectives, but the point is that Theresa Hewett was a right bitch and she didn't mesh well with _anyone,_" I finished, highly enjoying watching Evans's expression of anger melt into total confusion.

"Wait," she said slowly, her eyes raking all over my face for some explanation, "You're talking about _Theresa Hewett_?"

"Of course," I scoffed, "Horrible Chaser to boot."

"Chaser," repeated Evans in a dull voice.

"Yeah," I said airily, "Remember? She was on the time for that one match fourth year. Lost us the game because she was so bloody awful. Don't know what I was thinking when I put her on the team."

Evans was staring at her hands, a brilliant blush blooming over her cheeks. "But I thought..." she drifted off.

"What?" I asked in a falsely surprised voice, "You thought I was talking about _you?_"

She looked up at my grinning face and nodded silently.

"Course not," I said simply.

"Good," she said suddenly in a loud voice, "Because I am not stubborn, cold, or bloody self righteous!"

"I know that," I said, even though she totally could be. I just wasn't going to be the one to tell her. Fanciable or not, Evans could be all of those things or more when put in the right situation. "You're beautiful, intelligent and nice," I told her instead.

Shaking her head at me, Evans started to laugh. "Honestly, Potter... only you."

I smiled right along with her.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling and then back to my face. "Did you just say those things so could compliment me in the end?"

"Of course," I said breezily, diverting my eyes back to the parchment littering the table. "And, hey, I even managed to not get hexed for all those nice things I said!"

"Yet," murmured Evans out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yet," I agreed.

We continued to discuss the prefect's timetable after that. I figured I had put her through enough – next time I might not play my words as carefully as before.

"So, what do we propose we do with the Ravenclaws on Tuesday nights?" she asked me, forehead furrowed in concentration.

"Well, I think we should pair up Singh with Kyle instead, as she currently fancies who she is paired up with now, what's-his-face."

"Rosenberg," Evans supplied instantly.

"Yeah him. That way when they do get their act together and go on a date, we won't have to reprimand them for snogging in the corridors when they were supposed to be patrolling."

Evans gave me an appraising look.

"What?" I shrugged. "Sirius heard it a while back while chatting up Singh during Muggle Studies. And I know from Remus that prefects frequently skive off their duties for snogging sessions."

Evans looked scandalized. "What! I never heard-" she started, eyes wide.

"Calm down," I laughed, "Remus only said that it was if they got bored and didn't catch anyone the whole night."

She didn't look appeased in the slightest. "Potter, we have to do something about that," she insisted sharply.

"Fine," I said, "What do you think we should do?" I raised my eyebrows at her.

She blinked, clearly searching for some solution to the problem. "I guess we'll just speak to them at the next meeting."

"Sounds good."

We continued talking and making arrangements for twenty or so minutes, and it was only as Evans gave a small cough while giving me a summary of Prefect duties that I remembered the one thing that I had promised myself that I would say to Evans.

"I'm sorry," I said out of the blue.

Evans looked totally bemused. "Excuse me?" she asked, lowering her quill and giving me an odd look. "For not knowing Prefect duties? I mean, yes, I did expect the Head Boy to know the Prefect responsibilities, but after finding out it was, well, you, I wasn't all that surprised that you had no idea what you were doing. In fact, shouldn't Remus be the one saying that after all these years? The _Prefect's Guide_ is probably the _only_ book he hasn't picked up after all these years..."

"No," I said as her green eyes bore into mine, "Um, for that thing in Potions earlier. I should have been more aware of what you were doing. It was my fault."

She continued to stare at me. "But, that wasn't your fault at all," she contradicted. "I wasn't thinking straight-"

"Yeah, because of me," I said grimly.

Evans gave me an appraising look. "Potter, as surprised as I am at this astonishing display of gallantry, I still fail to see how the incident was your fault."

I chose not to make a comment about how my gallantry should be in any way surprising at all – I was always gallant. I practically effused gallantry. Gallantry was the unspoken Potter middle name since Potters have been Gryffindors, that was like a bazillion years, by the way.

"But," I contradicted, "I asked you who you fancied!"

Evans rolled her eyes. "Look, the truce never specified anything about asking me who I fancied. It was unfair of me to lose my temper like that."

"But," I began slowly.

"No," Evans said with finality. "I'm not mad, and you're not mad, so we're all good, right?"

I nodded

"Now," she picked up the last piece of parchment lying on the table, "What are we going to do about this?"

"Okay," I said, peering over her shoulder, "so we've got that the Hufflepuffs will be patrolling the fourth floor instead of the Astronomy tower because their too lenient toward the many, many students out of bounds?" I asked, peering over her shoulder.

Evans nodded.

"And that the fifth years of all houses will be nowhere near the empty classrooms on the third floor," I continued and then added, "want to save them from any permanent mental scarring until at least they come of age."

She winced. "Yes we do."

I grinned at her. "Aw, what happened Evans?" I asked.

She paused before beginning and her eyes darted around the room embarrassedly as she spoke. "Halfway through fifth year I caught a couple of older students in one of those empty classrooms. I had to go get an older prefect to tell them off, I was so mortified. I had, erm, never seen people so-so-"

"Starkers?" I offered.

Evans's eyes flickered to mine and she tossed me a sheepish smile. "Yeah."

"Anyway," I said, turning my eyes back to the parchment at hand, "I think this just might work. There's just the problem of who will patrol the rest of the castle Monday and Thursday. We have most of the floors covered, but there is still a wing or two left."

There was a moment's pause as we both tried to come up with names.

"Potter," Evans said slowly as her eyes skimmed the parchment once more, "_we're_ both free."

I turned to look at her. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said in a low voice.

"You'd be willing to patrol with me twice a week? Me, James Potter, Marauder extraordinaire?"

"Yeah," she repeated. "It fits. Look, I don't want to mess it up again since we've got it all organized and everything. Plus, having you as a partner won't be the worst thing in the world."

"No, it won't be," I told her fervently.

Evans smiled. "Great." She stood up and began gathering the papers strewn over the table to put in her bad. "So, I think that's all," said Evans as she pushed in her chair. "Er, see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I breathed.

She paused, clearly unsure of what form of good-bye would be proper for us.

She made a move to shake my hand, but thought better of it. Instead she turned to go, waving at me once she was right in front of the portrait hole.

I half heartedly waved back and she left without another word.

I followed Evans out of the Heads common room a few minutes later and walked back to my dormitory, thinking hard. So, me and Evans were going to patrol together twice a week. In the dark. Surrounded by snogging couples.

And I could do nothing about it. No moves, no nothing.

Bugger.

I arrived at the Fat Lady, told her the password and crossed the common room. As it was only eight, there were students of all ages still up and working. I greeted a couple of people, but I didn't stay and chat.

Finally I ascended the spiral staircase up to the boy's dorms and entered.

"Prongs!" greeted Remus from his bed. "How was Lily?"

"Good," I said shortly.

"You didn't do anything stupid, did you?" Remus asked, eyes narrowing.

"Course he did," Sirius said from where he was hanging upside down off the side of his bed. "Prongs is stupidity's bitch, everyone knows that."

Peter chuckled but decided not to comment.

"I did _not_ do anything stupid!" I said hotly, dropping my bag on my bed. "I'll have you know, I even managed to get myself partnered with her for patrols."

Sirius dropped his essay and the sound of parchment fluttering to the floor was the only thing to be heard in the dormitory for a moment.

"Bloody hell, well done Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed, hopping off his bed and clapping me on the back.

"Did you bribe, trick or otherwise impede on Lily's free will to get this accomplished?" Remus asked, turning back to his book once he had gotten over the shock.

"No," I said, scowling at Remus. "She was the one who proposed it in the first place."

"Really?" asked Peter, "You didn't, I dunno, Imperius her or something?"

"Don't be such a prat, Wormtail," called Sirius, "That's illegal!"

"So?" Peter stated, shutting his Charms textbook to give me his full attention, "Nothing legal has worked so far, who's to say Prongs thought outside the box?"

"Outside the law, more like," muttered Remus behind his pages.

"No, I did not use any type of magical persuasion on Evans," I said tiredly as I walked over to sink down on my bed.

"Good for you, mate," said Sirius, waving his wand so his essay flew up into the air and resettled itself on his nightstand. "So what's the plan? Kick me out of my usual broom closet and then shove her in there and ravish her yourself?"

"Spare me," said Remus to no one in particular.

"Er, no," I said awkwardly.

"Going to romance her first, then?" Peter asked, staring at me curiously. "Because didn't you establish early on in sixth year that if you spend any time dillydallying with flowers and such you won't ever get the 'will you go out with me Evans' part out due to unexpected cases of tentacles or green warts?"

"Remember that time when Evans charmed a storm cloud to appear and hurl lightning bolts at Prongs every time he finished a sentence?" asked Sirius, grinning.

Peter smiled too.

Remus sighed, but the corners of his mouth were upturned in a small smile. "I've never heard such run on sentences in my life, Prongs."

"Yeah, well. It made my hair stick up even more than it usually did."

"And you couldn't have that, could you?" said Peter wryly.

"Of course not," I scoffed. "It screwed up the whole windblown effect I have going on."

"More like the I-can't-be-bothered-to-buy-a-decent-comb effect," muttered Sirius.

"Shut it, you," I said, hurling a balled up pair of socks at his head.

Sirius waved his wand and the socks slowed down in midair to drop harmlessly at the foot of his bed.

"Better aim, next time Prongs. Remind me how you even got to be captain in third year again?"

"Dashing good looks?"

"Don't even try that one. You were a scrawny little git at thirteen," dismissed Sirius.

"I was not!"

"You were."

"Sorry, but I can't deny it either."

"You're good looking now, and that's what counts, yeah?"

I didn't respond. Instead I huffily got out my Transfiguration book and prepared to answer McGonagall's questions.

"Wait, Prongs, what _is _you plan with Evans?" Sirius asked a few minutes later.

"Eh?" I asked, looking up at him.

"We never got it out of you – what are you planning with Evans on your patrols together?" restated Sirius, tossing my socks from one hand to the other.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Remus repeated curiously as he lowered the cover of his book.

"Nothing," I reaffirmed.

"Making it up as you go along? Best plan, in my book," said Sirius with a conspiratorial nod in my direction.

Remus sighed. "Prongs, really, haven't you tried this before? And hasn't it ended badly?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "I mean, I'm going to do nothing."

"In the name of Merlin's rusty cauldron, _why?"_ asked Sirius, totally bemused.

"Because of the truce."

"Truce? What truce?" Peter asked, looking from Sirius to Remus for any sign of recognition. "I don't remember a truce."

"I made an agreement this morning in Herbology," I explained to them, "I would stop asking her out, and in turn she wouldn't get too mad at me when I slip up."

Sirius groaned. "Why would you do a silly thing like that, Prongs?"

Peter just looked even more confused.

Remus, however, was beaming.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" I muttered.

"And it was," said Remus kindly. "Now you'll eventually be mates; get to know her better and vice versa. Maybe then you can get her to warm up to you."

"Yeah, that's all good and dandy, Moony," Sirius said sourly, "but how does that get him into her pants?"

Remus looked like he was praying for patience. "It doesn't. But that's not the point."

"What's the point, here, Prongs?" Pete asked.

"I dunno," I admitted. "But I want to be her mates. I mean, not on the same level as with you guys, but I just want to be with her, you know? I'd rather snog her, but I'll settle for decent conversation."

"Your choice, Prongs," said Sirius as pulled his half completed essay off his nightstand. I could tell from his expression that he thought I was making the wrong one.

The night continued on with no further talk of Evans, instead we started our preliminary planning for the full moon next month.

I fell asleep at midnight and dreamed of exploring the darker passages of the castle with girlish giggles echoing off the walls that made me jump with every step.

As usual Remus's alarm clock got us up promptly at seven AM and we all trooped downstairs once we had gotten all our shoes on the right feet and had stopped putting our robes on inside out. Bleary eyed and yawning hugely, we entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Anything on the agenda today?" asked Sirius as he helped himself to a small mountain of waffles.

"Don't think so," I said, lifting my glasses to rub some of the sleep away from my eyes. "We were too knackered to plan anything for today."

"Ri'," said Sirius thorugh a mouthful of toast.

We continued to eat in semi silence until the post arrived. Two owls soared down to our section of the table, one for me, one for Pete.

"Who's it from Prongs?" Sirius asked interestedly, leaning over my shoulder to read.

"Er, penpal," I said distractedly as I read the letter. She didn't like Quidditch? That just about kills any hope I had of us actually getting along.

Plus she assumed I had relationship advice to give her. She would be disappointed; I was just about as useful as a drunken mountain troll to her problematic situation.

"Pete?" Sirius turned to the boy in question.

"Same as Prongs," he responded, unfurling the scroll attached to his owl's leg.

"Who's your correspondent?" I asked once I was done reading my letter.

"Er, nobody," Peter said shiftily as he stuffed his letter under the table and into his bag.

"Come on, you have to give us more than that!" Sirius exclaimed.

"I dunno," Peter said, busying himself with applying jam to his toast.

" 'I dunno,' as in 'I dunno' who he is or 'I dunno' what the letter actually says?" I asked, a bit annoyed at Peter's reticence.

"Look, I dunno. It's some Slytherin pureblood," said Peter eventually.

"Really," Sirius remarked flatly with a raised eyebrow. "Hand it over Pete."

Peter reached into his rucksack and pulled out his letter. He offered it to Sirius. Sirius took hold of it with the very tips of his forefingers, as if he was afraid it would contaminate him. He quickly pulled out his wand and muttered the spell to set the letter aflame.

"Hey!" Peter said in protest as he watched the piece of parchment crumbling before his mate. "What are you doing?"

"Burning it," said Sirius shortly, scowling at the ashes that had settled on his golden plate.

"Why?"

"Because it's evil," Sirius growled, still glaring at the remains of Peter's letter.

"Still it was _my_ letter!" exclaimed Peter.

"So?"

"I thought you were going to read it, not destroy it!" Peter retorted.

"Why would I read rubbish like that?" asked Sirius, plainly outraged.

"I dunno," Peter said, turning a bit red, "to laugh at it?"

"It's not a laughing matter," Sirius said coldly. "These people are dangerous, Wormtail. You'd do better to stay away from the lot of them."

Peter didn't respond, but I could tell that he was still angry at Sirius for taking his property and then lighting it on fire.

Privately I agreed with Sirius; I thought all those slimy snakes should be forbidden from speaking ever again.

We spent the rest of breakfast in silence. Sirius was brooding to himself, no doubt dwelling on his parents and dark skeletons in their closets that the rest of us didn't know about. Peter was silently eating his food, still pretty annoyed at Sirius for acting on his behalf. Remus kept shooting furtive looks at the both of them, probably trying to figure out a way to appease the situation and avoid Sirius's temper and Peter's inclination to sulk.

As for me, I reread my letter from _T_ a couple of times and tried to figure out some advice to give her that wouldn't end up biting her in the arse.

"Er, let's go," Remus said after a quarter of an hour of silence. "We need to be in Defence soon."

"Right," I said, watching Sirius swing his bag on his should and stalk out of the Great Hall without us.

I watched him go, knowing that it would be best to let him cool off on his own. The three of us remaining also got up to leave, but Peter started to lag behind. He looked deep in thought.

Remus and I ended up walking up to Defence alone together. We entered the classroom and took seats near the front. I sat next to Sirius and Remus saved a seat for Peter. He arrived three minutes later, breathing heavily. He had obviously sprinted the last few yards for fear of being late.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Evans slipped into the classroom not long after Peter. She was taking a in the back just as Morningside called for the lesson to begin.

"Right class," Morningside began briskly, "As we've been reviewing the basic concept of jinxes and curses for your NEWTs, I think it's about time we have a practical lesson. We all know the simply theory is dreadfully boring." She gave us a sympathetic smile over her horn rimmed glasses.

She received a few sickly smiles in return from the arse-kissing Slytherins in the class.

"Rather than suffer the chaos of two dozen students running rampant around the classroom shooting hexes every which way," Morningside continued, "I'll call up the two students who gave me the best essays after last lesson to demonstrate for you all first. Then I think we can manage three pairs at once, yes?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"All right, stand up the rest of you, and form a circle around the Head Boy and Girl," Morningside said. She pulled out her wand and all the desks flew to the sides of the room and piled neatly one on top of the other.

I shot a surprised look at Sirius, who shrugged, and walked confidently to the centre of the classroom.

Evans appeared beside me a moment later, wand out and a curious smile plastered on her face.

I gulped. She looked quite scary, actually.

"Right, obviously no Dark magic, just your run of the mill jinxes," Morningside said from behind us. I turned to glance at her; she had sat upon her desk to watch.

"You ready, Potter?" asked Evans as she began to circle inside the ring of classmates.

"Of course," I said easily as I followed her path inside the circle of onlookers.

"Expelliarmus!" she called.

I easily dodged her spell.

"Come on, Potter, hit me with your best shot," she taunted.

I didn't comment. Instead I kept my eyes trained on her wand.

A moment later she fired three jets of light in rapid succession. I was able to weave out of the way of two of them; however, the last caught me on the shoulder.

I could feel her hex sting, but I ignored it.

"Not going to jinx me?" Evans asked in a surprised voice, but her eyes remained wary.

"Nope," I said in the same casual tone.

Evans laughed. It was cold and grated on my ears. "Don't you enjoy cursing people?"

"No."

"Really?" Evans called in a sing song voice, "I could've sworn there are about a hundred detention slips in the basement with your name on them for jinxing students in the hallways. _Immobulus!_"

"I don't do that anymore," I retorted, dodging her curse again.

"You sure? You sure you still don't have the barest inkling to turn annoying students blue or to make all their hair fall out?"

"No," I said, casting a shield charm so that her silent jelly-legs jinx simply bounced off it.

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Evans asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Obviously."

"Dammit Potter, why won't you curse me?" she demanded.

"Language, Miss Evans," Morningside commanded.

"Sorry Professor," she responded automatically.

"I don't want to," I said calmly, waving my wand and silently reinforcing my shield.

"You don't want to," repeated Evans. "Of course, if the almighty Potter doesn't _want _to, nobody is going to force him," she sneered.

I didn't respond. I couldn't say precisely _why_ I was so adverse to casting one measly spell. I guess it was because it was Evans. How could I curse Evans? People weren't supposed to go around cursing the object of their fancy! It just wasn't right. She wasn't a slithering snake who deserved it, she was...fuck. She was Evans.

"Honestly, you're just a spoiled brat, aren't you? Never had to work for anything in your life, everything handed to you on a silver platter. _Confringo!"_

My strengthened shield charm protected me from the worst of her blast, but it accomplished what Evans intended. Unable to bear the weight of her curse, it dissolved.

"_Locomotor Mortis!"_ she cried.

I threw myself out of the way just in time.

I quickly scrambled to my feet and out of the way of a fresh slew of jinxes she sent my way.

"Merlin, Potter!" breathed Evans, "Why do you have to be so bloody difficult all of the time? Can't you just once _do what you're told?"_ she demanded, and with each stressed word she sent a silent spell my way.

I dodged them all.

She was clenching her wand so tightly, her knuckles had turned white. "And you wonder why I never fancied you, Potter? This is it. This is exactly why I find you so repulsive. You'll never grow up, will you? Honestly, this time last year you would have jumped at the opportunity to hex another student. Now that you've been given _permission_ it's lost all its appeal, hasn't it? No, you just can't work inside the rules because it's not in your nature. You have to go be so petty and immature. I know you, Potter. Your principles are so set, you'll never change and you'll never get me. I'll never go out with you and so you have to go vent your frustration by breaking as many rules as you can with your stupid friends."

I snapped.

"Fuck, Evans," I shouted, ignoring Morningside's reprimand of, "Language, Mr. Potter!"

"You don't know a single thing about me!" I continued, "And don't you _dare_ insinuate that you can see right through me, you blind, judgemental shrew!" And with that, I fired my first spell at her.

Surprised, Evans couldn't raise her wand in time. She couldn't even doge out of the way like I had done to so many of her spells she sent my way. The jet of neon blue light hit her squarely in the chest, above her heart.

I watched with absolute horror as she fell into the desks behind her with an almighty crash.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, that's my first ever cliffhanger! ****Like it? ... I thought not.**

**Okay so I have a question for all you readers, Do you like Lily's POV chapters? I got a review that said they almost turned her off from the entire story and I was all, "Gee, blunt much?" but then I got to wondering. Is that what the rest of you think? I know myself I'm not too thrilled with Lily's chapters, but I think they move the plot along when with James's ones they're all, "Marauders just wanna have fun!"**

**Please tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it**


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